#take some extra trips up the stairs or whatever

[self-sailing-ships]

who knew that "found the perfect jacket for a halateez look but the biggest size they had is 2 sizes too small" would be the motivation i need to finally start eating better and losing some excess weight

[allywthsr]

LITTLE SPOON | (l.norris)

summary: Lando’s never been the little spoon before

wordcount: 1.3k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: it’s rather short, but I didn’t know what else to write

You’ve been dating Lando for a little over three months, in these months you‘ve tried to see Lando as often as possible, which was a bit tricky sometimes with his crazy schedule, but you still made it work.

Today wasn’t a day made for Lando, when he woke up this morning, it was raining and he noticed that he forgot to charge his phone and he didn’t have the time to charge it, his portable charger was also running low on battery, so he had to fly to England with only twelve percent. When he was at the MTC, he sat in the simulator and didn’t get the results he wanted, and Oscar was quicker in almost every sector. And in the cafeteria, they only had foods involved with fish, and the only thing that wasn’t near a fish, didn’t taste good. That almost ruined his day, the cherry on top was when he was on his way to you and stopped for a small grocery run, he got crowded by his fans outside, someone must’ve posted that he was in a Tesco in London. After taking pictures with almost everyone, he looked at his phone and saw about ten missed calls and at least twenty messages from you, asking where he was and if he could bring some extra apples. With a groan, he went back inside and prayed that no one else was waiting for him, and luckily there were only about ten people this time, he quickly said hello to everyone and hopped back into his car, which was also running low on fuel and he had to get gas, taking him even longer to be in your arms.

The last thing that almost made him cry, was when he went up the stairs to your apartment and with the heavy bags in his hands, he didn’t see a step and tripped, luckily he didn’t get seriously hurt, but the groceries were now all over the floor and his knee was hurting from the fall. After collecting it and putting it back into the bags, he had enough. Enough of this stupid day. He rang your doorbell and stomped passed you directly to the kitchen where he unloaded the food, with a surprised look you followed him.

“Hello to you too, my darling.”

“Sorry, bad day.”

And with that, he turned to you and fell into your arms, you caressed his back and kissed his neck and cheek repeatedly, wanting to comfort him.

“What happened?”

“It all started this morning with me forgetting to charge my phone, being shit in the simulator, bad food, and don’t get me started on the huge crowd that stood outside of Tesco, I also fell up your stairs.”

You immediately pouted and pushed him away to look at him, “My angel, is there anything I can do?”

“Make me food and cuddle”, Lando said after a while of thinking.

You nodded and kissed his lips with a smile, you knew he needed to be babied now, you sent him to the couch where he put on his favorite show, while you made dinner. You didn’t waste too much time preparing a fancy dinner, some pasta, and a sauce, but you knew that was his comfort food, your pasta.

Normally you sat down at the dinner table to eat, but you figured he needed his comfort show and the couch tonight, the day clearly wasn’t nice to your boy, so you could be to him.

With two plates in your hands, you made your way to him, he was lying on the couch with a small pout while checking his phone every now and then.

“I‘m finished with dinner, can you sit up so you can eat?”

He nodded and scooched a little to the right, so you could sit next to him and share the coffee table, you placed the plates on said table and sat down. You kissed his shoulder, “Enjoy your meal, Lan, after that, we can cuddle or whatever you’d like.”

“I‘d like that, thank you for making dinner, I wanted to help you.”

“Don’t worry, we all have bad days sometimes.”

You both started eating and silently watched the show Lando put on, you let him be in his head and think about the day he had. Lando and you quickly finished your meal and he immediately leaned back against the soft cushions, you knew he wouldn’t be doing anything today.

“Can I put the dishes in the dishwasher quickly or do we want to cuddle now?”

“If you hurry with the dishes?”

“Always.”

So you quickly put the dishes in the dishwasher and grabbed a kinder chocolate bar that you could give to Lando, maybe that would cheer him up a little, you always kept a small stack of these in case that Lando gets a sweet tooth and needed chocolate.

When Lando saw you coming back, he laid down and opened his arms, for you to lay in.

“Don’t you wanna be the small spoon today? I want to comfort you.”

“Nah, I‘ve never been the little spoon, I get comforted when I hold you in my arms.”

“You’re a walking cheeseball, aren’t you? I brought you a kinder chocolate bar.”

He quietly mumbled a ‘Thank you’ and already opened the package of the small chocolate before you could lie down.

You moved in front of him and he closed his arms around you and snuggled with his face in your neck, inhaling your scent he loved so much. Your hands found their way to his‘ and you caressed his knuckles and played with his long fingers, both of you were silent and enjoyed the peace that lingered in the living room. You knew Lando was exhausted so it was no wonder that he fell asleep pretty quickly.

You hated to wake him up, but you knew if he would sleep on the couch he would have back pain tomorrow, so you carefully turned around in his embrace and kissed his chin. Slowly caressing his cheeks and repeatedly kissing his face, everywhere where you could reach him. Slowly he opened his eyes and groaned, he needed his sleep and hated getting disturbed.

“Should we move this to the bedroom? You‘ll be more comfortable there.”

Lando nodded against your neck in which he had put his head after opening his eyes. You got up and pulled on his hand, he got up after looking at you with a pout and you walked into the bathroom where you two did your little night routine. When you went into the bedroom, Lando laid down on his side and opened his arms again, waiting for you to slip in.

“What if I‘m the big spoon tonight, you’re still not feeling too good, and it can be very comforting.“

“I don’t know Y/N, I‘ve never been the little spoon, I want to protect you and hold you close.”

“I‘m still close to you when I cuddle you, come on, let’s try it out, we can switch back if you don’t like it.”

“You won’t give up, will you?”

You shook your head and he scooched a little more to your side, you laid down and wrapped your arms around his body, caressing his tummy, you also slipped a leg between his. It felt good having him in your arms and cuddling like that.

After a few minutes you felt him moving, “And? What do you think?”

“It’s the best fucking thing ever, you’re never gonna be the little spoon ever again, only if you have a bad day, baby.”

taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg @noneofyourfbusinessworld @myownwritings

[ravenromanova]

My little girl

Pairings: Step mom Natasha x Step daughter reader (Steve is the father)

Warnings: SMUTTTT!!!!!! DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+! Mommy kink, Strap on use, Pet names, Cheating, Fingering, Oral. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDERAGE!

Summary: Natasha cant wait to have her little girl anymore.

Kinktober Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Send me requests!!!

~

The day had started out like normal for you since you had gotten home eat with your dad and step mother, then watch movies in your room til dinner. But unfortunately right after breakfast your father had gotten a call that he was needed on a work trip ASAP. It wasn’t uncommon for your father to be whisked away by work… sometimes you thought he was cheating on your step mother with how much he was gone.

So after you hugged him by he was out of the door faster then you could blink. You were kinda sad you weren’t gonna spend halloween with him since you literally came home for that but oh well. After he left you retreated back into your room despite your step mother trying to talk to you.

About an hour or two after your father’s departure you went down for dinner. Your stomached rumbled as you smelt whatever it was Natasha had made for dinner.

“Take a seat moya lyubov ill bring it to you” She says with a smile as she hears you walk into the kitchen. You do as you’re told and sit down as the mahogany table watching the woman skate her way around the kitchen. When she was done making your plate she handed it to you with a kiss on the head and a smile.

“Thank you” The words barely made it out of your mouth since she had made you a little flustered. She noticed your flushed cheeks but didn’t say anything and sits down to eat next to you.

“So i was thinking that since your dads gone why dont we go to that haunted maze that’s in town tonight? It’ll be good to get out of the house.” Natasha asked breaking the silence the two of you were in. The thought of you and Natasha alone brought a shiver down your spine and made not so pg thoughts run through your head.

“Sure. That’s sounds better than just watching movies all night.” You agree while taking a sip of your drink and try not to choke when you see her smile.

“Great! I’ll get us tickets for around eight so after were finished go get dressed lyubov” She couldn’t contain her excitement about being able to spend time with you if she tried. Even though she was with your father she had been madly in love with you since she met you. Granted she never said anything but in light of recent events with your father she’s throwing all her resolve away.

Natasha had thought your father was cheating on her for months and, it was confirmed a month ago when he came home with a hickey and lipstick on his collar. That was when Natasha had made a plan to get back at him through you in many ways. She had started her plan last week when you came back for break. It started out with soft touches, sweet praises, small gifts and now tonight was her time to finalize her plan.

The two of you finished dinner with light conversation before you got up and got ready. You couldn’t help but put some extra effort in your appearance wanting to impress your stepmother. Black ripped jeans, a red tank top, leather jacket and boots is what you decided on along with your hair in braids. Once you stared at yourself in the mirror for five minutes you finally decided to head downstairs.

When you descended down the stairs Natasha was putting on her boots and you choked a little at how good she looked. She was wearing a grey long sleeve accompanied by a similar leather jacket to yours, black jeans and had her hair braided. Her attention turned towards you and she smiled as her heart thumped in her chest.

“You look so good dekta” She praised walking up to you keys and purse in hand. You blushed at her praise and muttered a ‘thank you’ before walking out to her car. She opened and closed your door before getting into the drivers side and driving off. The car ride was filled with the both of you singing along to halloween songs and laughing.

When she pulled into the maze your eyes widened at the decorations that lined the maze. Natasha parked the car and opened your door while holding out her hand for you. You took her hand with a smile and the two of you walked to the ticket booth.

“Hi welcome to the haunted maze of westview! How can i help you?” The woman dressed as a skeleton asked once you and Natasha approached her.

“Hi! We have two tickets for eight under Romanoff” Natasha answered the woman with her signature smile that made you swoon. The woman gave you both wristbands and told you both to have a goodnight with a smile. Natasha took your hand and started to lead you to the entrance of the maze. And of course to your lucky a zombie jumped out at you right as you entered the maze.

“Fucking shit!” You screamed as the zombie retreated back into their corner. Unknowingly when you jumped you had fully pushed your body into Natashas and her hands found home on your waist. When you realized how close you were to her you tried to pull away but she held you close.

“Stay next to me dekta i’ll protect you” She whispered in your ear and continued to walk you two through the maze hand in hand. As the two of you walked along multiple creatures jumped out at you causing you to shriek and squeal like a child. Natasha laughed everytime you screamed and jumped back into her arms.

In all reality she was loving how scared you got because you sought solace in her. She would wrap her arms around your waist and hold you close smiling to herself each time. By the time you two neared the end of the maze you were significantly scared and a mess in Natasha’s arms. But of course you couldn’t leave without one more group of creepy and disfigured creatures popping out and scaring you half to death.

“Okay can we go home now?” Your voice was starting to shake from how scared you were. Natasha took your hand and nodded before kissing your hand and bringing you to her car.

“I didn’t know it would be that intense dekta im sorry” She apologized with a look of pity in her eyes pulling you into a hig for a second. Your arms naturally found themselves wrapped around her waist and your head laid on her chest.

“It’s okay it’s not your fault im a wimp” You joke lifting your head up to look into her deep green eyes. For a moment you could’ve sworn you saw something more than just a step mother kind of love from her. And you were right and that became clear when her hand cupped your face and rubbed your cheek. She stared at you with more love and admiration than you’ve ever seen.

“Let’s get you home dekta” She whispered kissing your head then taking your hand in hers again. You gratefully take her hand and let her lead the way to her car before getting in the passenger seat. She got in the drivers side after she closed your door and drove off yet again.

Natasha kept one hand n the wheel and one hand on your thigh the whole time she drove back to your house. The two of you sat in comfortable silence during the ride home just enjoying the music on the radio. Your thoughts were running wild when she rubbed her thu,b on your thigh, the action set a straight pulsing to your core. It was hard to focus on anything with the way her hand felt on you. When she pulled into the driveway she moved her hand to your cheek and made you look at her pulling you out of your thoughts.

“When we get inside i want you to go upstairs, strip, get on the bed and wait for me” She demanded fully losing her resolve. You didn’t mutter a word but instead just nodded your head not completely understanding what’s happening. You bolted out of the car and unlocked the front door before booking it to your room.

As you ran to your room you couldn’t contain your excitement or the wetness in your panties growing. Once you finally reached your room you undressed as fast as your could and then laid on your bed waiting for her. It took her a grueling fifteen minutes before she walked into your room with a red strap on in her hand and a devilish smile.

“Good girl listening to mommy” She groaned out taking in your fair skin and pretty face. Natasha wasted no time in sauntering over to you and placing herself between your thighs. Her hands found their way to your stomach and she squeezed the soft flesh.

“So soft, So pretty baby” Her praise sent a shiver down your spine which in turn made your nipples hard. She moved her hands to your chest and rolled your nipples in between her fingers.

“Oh fuck mommy” The moan was broken as it past your lips. The arousal in between your thighs was dripping down on the sheets at this point. It was only a matter of seconds before one of your nipples was in her mouth and she sucked on it. Your back arched from the pleasure that you felt.

You aren’t quite sure how you got here but gods you were loving it. Her mouth felt so good on your chest you swear you almost came right then.

“Please fuck me mommy” You beg clawing at her back earning a chuckle from the redhead. “Please” The need was very evident in your voice.

“Okay okay okay” She laughed making her way down your body. Your glistening pussy made her groan when she came face to face with it. She wasted no time again as she stuck two fingers into you making you moan loudly.

“Oh fuck yes” You screamed when her mouth came down on your clit. Her fingers worked relentlessly hitting your g-spot over and over again while sucking your clit. You were in a haze from the pleasure you felt as your orgasm came closer.

“R-Right there mommy…FUCK!” Your orgasm ripped through you like you’ve never felt before earning a satisfied moan from the older woman. The second you came on her tongue she knew she was addicted for life.

“Such a good girl dekta” Your stepmother praised rubbing small circles on your clit with her free hand while still hitting your g-spot with the other.

“M-Mommy c-cant too sensitive” The pleas fell on deaf ears as she pulled another orgasm from you. She smirked to herself and pulled her fingers out and then licking them clean.

“So fucking sweet” She continued her praises grabbing the strap securing it to her hips. Your eyes fell down to the strap and your eyes widened in excitement yet again. It was in this moment she went from your step mother to the love of your life.

“I’m gonna fuck you for real now okay sweet girl?” She asked kissing her thighs lifting them to wrap around her waist. You gladly wrapped your legs around her which brought her closer to your dripping and aching pussy. Your hands wrapped around the faux cock and directed it to you.

“Please mommy” And that plea right here is what broke all of her restraint. She slammed her cock into you making you scream out and claw at her. She picked a fast pace as she rammed herself into you.

“OH FUCK!” You screamed feeling the strap hit all the right spots. Natasha smirked as she looked down at you and saw your face contort with pleasure.

“That’s it baby take it take mommy cock” She demanded feeling her clit brush against the strap making her moan. Her moans were music to your ears and brought you closer to your thrive orgasm.

“R-Right there mommy -oh fuck-“ The sentence barely came out as you came on the strap with a shriek. You sat up and grabbed onto her and she decided to wrap her arms around your waist and fuck into you harder.

“My sweet little girl takes me so well” Natasha praised chasing her own orgasm still fucking into you hard.

“Yes mommy! All for you” You moaned attaching your lips to her neck needing to distract yourself from the pleasure. Her head fell back once you started sucking on her neck and that was all she needed to cum harder than ever.

“Such a good girl” She kissed your forehead as she laid you back on your back and fucked your through her orgasm bringing you to your fourth.

“Thank you mommy” You squeaked feeling her pull out of you slowly. She discarded the strap on the floor then laid next to you breathlessly.

“Oh im the one that should be thanking you” Her laugh came out airy as she rolled to her side to look at you. She pulled the covers over the two of you before she pulled you closer so your back was pressed against her.

“Well either way that was amazing” Your hands found their way on top of hers giving them a soft squeeze. She hummed in agreement and laid with you in a dazed state. It took you a few moments before the reality of you sleeping with your step mother hit.

“Fuck-“ You berated yourself making Natasha turn you over to face her. Her eyes were filled with concern as you kept muttering to yourself.

“What’s wrong dekta?” She asked cupping your cheeks making you look at her.

“We just had sex! And you’re married to my father! That’s what’s wrong” You sat up and ran your hand through your hair. “Oh my gods what have i done?” You ask more to yourself than her.

“Hey hey hey look at me its okay” She said softly making you shake your head in response.

“No! No! it isn’t okay!” You said in a frantic state disgusted with yourself and what you’ve done.

“Your father has been cheating on me” She finally says causing you to halt your head shaking.

“W-What?” The disbelief was hard to hide as you spoke. It’s not like the thought of your dad cheating never happened but for it to finally be confirmed shocked you.

“I found out last month.. You know his secretary? Sharon?” She asked and you nodded. “Well apparently those work trips have been to the four seasons in jersey city” Natashas voice came out smooth and soft as she spoke almost as if she didn’t care.

“Why dont you seem more upset?” Was all you were able to ask still in shock.

“Because i found someone much better to love” She answered cupping your cheek. It took you a moment to realize what or more so who she was talking about.

“M-Me?” You asked pointing to yourself with wide eyes. She shook her head yes with a smile on her face.

“Ive wanted you since the day i met you. Marrying your father was the biggest mistake of my life” The redhead admitted staring into your eyes. You smiled back at the woman nodding your head in understanding.

“So what does this mean?” Your voice was a little shaky as you spoke but she gave you a kiss to help with that.

“It means that i want a divorce from your father… And then if you want me i want to be with you” She admitted and for the first time you saw the older woman blush.

“I want you” You said quickly not giving her any time to doubt herself. Natasha smiled and brought you in for another kiss. That night you two laid together figuring out how Natasha would bring up the divorce to your father.

In the months that followed your father and Natasha got a divorce and, you and her moved to new york together during the summer so you could finish school. Natasha was more than happy to leave westview and move to the big city with you. She found a job with a private security company a month after you two settled into your new apartment.

You and your father no longer spoke since he decided to start dating sharon before his and Natashas divorce was finalized. But in all honesty you couldn’t give two fucks about your father when you are this happy.

Who knew one haunted maze would really be the start of your new life?

~The end~

A/n GUYS ITS THE 16TH! 😭 So i just had to post a nat fic in dedication. I miss our girl sm!

i do not give permission for my work to be translated or copied on other cites

[byhuenii]

PASILYO

synopsis! rogue is trying to play matchmaker. she sees the way you look at logan and the way he looks at you (WC: idk..) pairing! logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x fem!reader warnings! usage of name instead of yn. reader has curly hair cause i said so. reader is of philippines descent cause i said so.. probably ooc. angst if ya squint?? communication but no communication 🧏‍♀️ a/n! just thought of this in my sleep and i kinda needed it.. IKAW WA IKAWWWWWW

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Rogue had sat on her bed she was thinking about a lot of things actually. Logan was sent on a solo mission by the professor and you had taken over his classes for the mean time. but there was something was a little off, she couldn’t put her finger on it but it was there.

She had been rolling all over her bed trying to figure it out, it was on the tip of her tongue yet it wasn’t coming out. “jeez” she groaned as her gloved hands flew dramatically to her face in frustration

the sound of a motorcycle being parked perked her ears up in interest, Logan was back. and if she knew he was back so did you.

She had quickly gone down the stairs to see Logan in his bell bottoms and usual leather jacket, “Logan!!” she smiled running to him giving him a hug “hi kid. Did ya miss me that much” he was a tease but a big softie that only she saw. “Not too much now” Rogue smiled

“So where’s bobby?? rogue’s face soured at that name. logan couldn’t help bjt have this ever so grin, “never liked him anyways he was too much”

“so whatever happened to ‘i’m not your father’ definitely acting like mine” rogue stuck her tongue out teasingly logan scoffed at her sass.

your heels clicked against the hard wooden floors “lo you’re back,” you made your way to him. a brown stripped button up showed your curves and the black bell bottom flares. “the trip had to be very difficult especially for someone of your smart caliber”

“and what’s that supposed to mean sweetheart” logan bit back a smile, “you know what i mean sweetheart” your smile was more of a toothy grin. rogue looked at you and then looked at logan and then looked back at you. “shut up.” she had a big smile plastered on her face

you sent her a confused look logan’s face went back to his natural angry look “what’s up with you kid?”

rogue realized she wouldn’t be able to ask them due to the fact they’d lie and lie and lie. “oh nothing just talking outloud!” she tried to play it off coolly. rogue had been cooking up this master plan in her head the minute she saw them exchanging little looks and she knew those looks by a yard.

rogue was going to play a game of matchmaker to get you two together. that shouldn’t be too hard.

There have been times rogue had felt humiliated and embarrassed but this took the number one spot, she had been so determined to get you and logan together but the progress remained at zero.

rogue had finally caught you alone, no class, no logan stuck by your side, no student asking for some help, no mission, NOTHING. just you in your classroom grading assignments. “perfect! you’re here” rogue was cheerful, “i need to ask you about something”

you looked up at rogue from your (siren) glasses that rode low on your nose ridge, “what’s wrong?” you looked back to the papers writing small notes to the kids paper.

“oh nothing i was just wondering about..you know”

“about?” you hadn’t looked up from your paper your purple jelly pen glided across the countless papers needed to be graded “if this is about extra credit you..you should know that you’re on top of everything—” “so you and logan.”

the purple pen stopped moving as you looked up to rogue. you licked your already glossed lips “what about him and i? we are friends”

“friends don’t look at each other like yall wanna drop everything and make out!”

“jesus rogue.”

“what a girl can’t speak her truth her or what?” rogue grumbled. everyday she truly started to adapt aspects of logan. “all i’m saying is logan never takes that kind of disrespect from anyone but when you’re the one saying it, it’s just different”

you laughed at the girl. “you’re not wrong but i’m not going to date him. that could jeopardize the teamwork” a painful smile crossed your lips. “you think too much about them and not about you”

“i mean look at jean and scott! they’re fine” rogue huffed, “but jean and scott are practically married at this point”

rogue started getting angry at your defiance, all she wanted was for you and logan to get together what was so hard about that. “fine looks like i’ll have to take this into my own hands”

you shook your head at the girls sudden confidence. “whatever you say rogue” rogue marched out the classroom with millions of ideas for her master match making skills.

she wasn’t gonna lie she only had about 3 options and all of them were bust. why had it been so hard for you two to just admit your feelings for each other? just a simple ‘i like you’re ‘oh my sweetheart i love you’. but no every single stint she did would backfire

plan 1. mission mistletoe.

despite the fact it was literally middle of spring almost hitting summer she had set up a small mistletoe where both you and logan always walk through TOGETHER.

she’ll drop something from above which would force them to look at the mistletoe. all was good all was great. well until you didn’t walk through the door with logan but with scott. LOGAN had just so happen to be right behind you.

“fuck.” rogue mumbled, she didn’t even want yall to look up until stupid logan noticed it, and had to stupidly call it out. “the hell is this mistletoe doing here it’s spring.” he rose a brow

scott looked up and laughed causing you to hold back a chuckle “with scott? uh uh. rather take jean” you stuck out your tongue to scott who seemed unfazed

logan’s gruffs didn’t go unnoticed by you “maybe if it was the two of us that walked through it would give a kiss but” you shrugged with a stupid grin plastered. scott looked at you and looked at logan and looked back at you “ah yes the classic tell of beauty and the beast!”

logan just glared at scott holding back his tongue which was unusual of him to do, but of course he’s in front of his lady. “you gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?” scott jabbed at logan. the same line he used when he saw jean.

“i can’t stand you two” you groan pinching your nosebridge.

plan 2. oh no my missing blanket is somehow in logan’s room

it was your favorite blanket, and also really your only blanket. you don’t know how it magically disappeared but it disappeared.

the fact it was cold tonight did not help you at all, you were practically freezing to the bone, “where the hell did it go” you tore up your bedroom to find that blanket just for it to be a mess without a blanket.

you wore cotton shirts and a tank top that seemed a little too tight around your chest area. you just threw on your fuzzy slippers and cardigan asking every single person if they’ve seen your blanket. you returned to your room with no blanket. “okay maybe he has it..i wouldn’t know how but” you were talking to yourself now,

was it the fact you were cold? you were definitely going crazy. you did some light knocks onto logan’s door “lo i have a question” you waited outside the door holding yourself in the little warmth.

it was like in a millisecondhe opened the door, “what’s up bub” he leaned against the door frame completely shirtless. your eyes definitely trailed down his body, he was sculpted like a god. his abs we’re practically chizzled with hair over them, his sweatpants hung low on the hips and you can feel your face turn flush.

“take a picture sweetheart” of course his smug ass said something. you quickly looked away from his body tearing into his bedroom “trying to get in bed with me too? you really are no subtle woman”

your face was beat red, “shut up. i was going to ask if you have my blanket”, “you mean the fluffy blanket you practically wrap yourself in?”, “yes that one”

he walked over to his bed that had it folded nicely ontop of it, “right here bub.”

“okay how did it get in here? i promise i didn’t place it in here on purpose” you quickly grabbed your blanket from the bed looking away from him in general. “you know if you really wanted to cuddle with me all you had to say was please”

he chuckled snaking his arm around your hips bringing you closer to him, you had a heap of emotions with your heart beating practically out of your chest you could tell he knew what effect he had on you. “fuck.” you mumbled looking at the wall, logan grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him . it wasn’t harsh but gentle. “look at me sweetheart” his tone was raspy but soft and gentle

you could feel your legs give out on you. you looked at him as he asked. his heart had stopped beating and at rapid pace it was ready to jump out. the urge to take him then and now was so strong but the guilt of him and you thinking about the negative dynamic riff held you back.

“please just once” he was a man that never pleased but he was pleading for you. the urge was too strong, the next time you blink your lips smashed against his. his arm held you strong against him, your lips tasted like strawberry. the strawberry chapstick you ha don’t on before made his hunger for you stronger.

he had bitten down on your bottom lip letting a moan escape your lips, you had to detach yourself from him. you needed to breathe. he was all so much. “we shouldn’t be doing this..” you put your face on his shoulder

“why can’t we? there is nothing stopping us” logan held you even tighter. you had no answer it was just guilt. “please don’t leave.” he was begging and he never begged.

you wiggled out his grip with blanket held tightly in your arms, “i’m sorry. goodnight”

not only did you feel stupid so stupid but you left logan there as if you had practically rejected him.

plan 3. movie night.

rogue was so sure that plan 2 would work but somehow the two of you were the most awkward it’s ever been. EVER.

“what the heck happened between you and [name]?!” rogue sounded annoyed at logan who had been quieter than usual. “none of ya business kid”

oh this was bad. no this was terrible.

the two of you hadn’t interacted the whole day and she could not have this couple die in a crash and burn from HER of all people. she had to think of an idea and quick “logan let’s do a movie night! we haven’t had one since you came back from your mission” rogue sounded a little too enthusiastic, logan looked at her and sighed “sure whatever”

rogue smiled and she hurriedly made it over to you, your class started in like 3 minutes. rogue stepped right in front of you “[name]. [name]. movie night tonight. you promised we’d do one!” rogue was out of breathe catching you off guard

“oh okay sure yeah ill go do you know—oh ok”

rogue smiled zooming off to her room. she had to craft the perfect excuse to leave them alone, maybe they could rekindle their relationship. cause whatever tension they had was not working.

rogue set everything up, a beer for logan, a root beer for you and a water for her. rogue had the snacks ready just she hadn’t expected the two of you to come at the same time. “oh logan! i didn’t expect you to be here”

“the kid invited me [name]” he was staring at you desperation seeped through them. ‘oh this is sm worse than i thought’

rogue smiled and pat the couch, “okay come sit. we are going to watch this movie. it’s some romance i heard it’s good”

logan groaned “anything but romance.” “it’s my turn to pick the movie so quiet grandpa” her sass spilled causing logan to scowl.

“i don’t know what’s with you two but let’s not have it ruin the day.” rogue stuck out her tongue slightly before playing the movie. the two sat uncomfortably next to rogue. even if they had some tension they’re bodies still wanted to be next to each other.

“ugh fuck this. i can’t sorry rogue this is boring” logan couldn’t even make it in 30 minutes without complaining, “you stayed quiet eye focused on the movie

logan had complaints after complaints he really tried his best don’t get the man wrong he did. you sighed “sorry rogue. i’m too tired i’m going to bed” such a coward for lying you weren’t in fact tired just restless. you couldn’t help but twist and turn over that kiss. you fucked yo you knew that but it was better than hurting the groups dynamic.

“i’ll walk you to your room [name]” logan offered getting up to walk you. “it’s alright. rogue needs you here more than me” a smile was very sweet as much as it was painful. rogues watched from the side. the littlest details from your rejection made logan reject. the way his shoulders slouched the way his hands look somewhat clammy.

“goodnight lo goodnight rogue” your footsteps quickly made its way to your room just so you can scream into your pillow. what if you just became selfish? you wanted him. he definitely wanted you.

rogue slouched on the couch pausing the movie she had no interest in, “what’s wrong with you now?” logan grumbled. his arms crossed his chest as he huffed in deeply, “it’s you two!”

“us two? what the hell you talking about kid” his lipped formed a thin line. “why are you so huffy about someone else’s problems”

“because! i’ve been trying my hardest to get you two together and yet here we were so close. SO CLOSE, i could literally feel it and the next day the two of you are awkward and so tense!”

the way rogue had rambled on and on about the two of you had made logan’s heart warm. the kid had cared for the two of you and picked up how you two were with each other even trying to help but you two just made it worse. “maybe you should just talk to her just really talk to her. all this yearning shit is too much!” she grabbed a pillow to scream into it “aye watch your mouth kid”

“you have a mouth of a sailor don’t talk to me about watching my mouth”

rogue calmed herself down standing up putting the bottles in the kitchen and the snacks. “i expect you two to be better in the morning or at least some time tomorrow. hell be together! just be together” she stormed off to her room. she was tired of them she needed her own day.

logan was left confused. so fucking confused, but he took what rogue said and marched over to your room. he stood in front of the door hand on the knob ready to open it, no knock nothing. he knew you weren’t asleep. he had nothing prepared but his raw feelings

he opened the door quietly making his pressure known and unknown at the same time. “[name]” logan’s voice soft and stern. “logan!” you jumped away from your pillow you had suffocated your face in, “listen i’m sorry about yesterday i don’t know what—oh?”

logan pinned you in between his arms on the bed his eyes wandered all over your face. he wanted your lips on his he wanted you more than ever, “i love you sweetheart. i don’t care about the damn xmen and if it effects the team i just fucking want you and only you” his forehead touched yours his breathing was steady in a hypnotic way, a smile danced on your lips, “so please shut up and let me kiss you.”

your arms snaked around a his neck bringing him down to your lips. the taste of beer and dr pepper was an interesting mix but logan did not mind. his kisses were passionate and needy, you can tell how much he longed for you. a giggle escaped your lips as your fingers played with his hair. he’s smiles were rare but he was definitely smiling into that kiss

his lips were practically intoxicated with yours, or more say you were intoxicated with his. he pulled away immediately pressing tiny kisses all over your face. “you know love? i’ve wanted you so bad but you cared too much of the teams dynamics. rightfully fuck the team”

a laugh escaped your lips “you’re so selfish” you somehow were able to flip him over so you were laying ontop of him, “yeah well being selfish led me to kiss you in the room?”

“well more so rogue did”

you placed a quick kiss on his lips before pulling away resting your head on his chest. his heartbeat was soothing, “you know i had actually been thinking that maybe i should be selfish. i wanted you badly myself, i was just too scared to act apon it..” your voice trailed low as your fingers still danced in his hair.

“you don’t have to ever think that again. i love you. let me take you on a proper date..please.” his hands rubbed your back in a soothing rhythm. he needed you close to him as possible he needed your scent on him, he needed your touch on him, he needed you on top of him as if he’s a big teddy bear.

“i’d like that.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

a/n - BRAINROT BRAINROT this lwk ass but el oh el

[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, angst, family drama, suggestive themes, rough kissing, mild intimacy

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Part Nineteen of Ink & Needle

Archie’s parents come knocking. You seek out Simon for comfort.

Chapter Eighteen // Chapter Twenty

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

The words lingered. Nearly burst.

You almost said them—almost confessed it all to Simon at the cliff’s edge.

I love you, Simon.

But you didn’t. You clung to them, sucked them down and pretended they didn’t exist. When you looked at Simon, and saw the possession in his gaze, you faltered. Those dark eyes of his transported you back to Riot Room, to the way he looked at you in the mirror when he had you in his lap.

You couldn’t speak them. Couldn’t make them real and whole and tangible.

As you chew on your nail in Amelia’s kitchen, you regret not saying something to Simon. The truth sits heavy in your chest. It is a rock in your stomach. Things might be different if you had said those words to him. Maybe you’d be with him now and not anxiously tapping your foot against the floor.

Amelia comes around the corner, her gaze falling to your bare feet. “Where are your socks, dear? You’ll catch cold.”

The weather is finally starting to change, becoming chillier by the day. It’s currently raining outside. The sky is gray and dreary.

“I’ll grab some,” you reply, reaching for your coffee mug. “Just started the kettle for you.”

“Thank you. That’s sweet,” smiles Amelia. “Did you eat yet?”

“Just toast with a bit of butter and jam,” you answer, yawning.

Amelia tuts. “Always start the day with a proper breakfast.” She begins opening cupboards. “I’ll take care of it.”

You’re about to ask Amelia if she’d like some help, but Lillian’s soft wail from upstairs silences your question.

Lillian is a month old now. It feels like only yesterday when you were at Evie’s bedside at the hospital. According to the pediatrician, Lillian is developing well. Healthy. That at least is a comfort. Everything else is tangled up, like bugs twisted in a sticky web.

Amelia glances over her shoulder, setting a pan on the stovetop. “How about you check on, Evie? I can handle breakfast.”

“Sure,” you nod, yawning yet again, taking your coffee cup with you.

“And put on some socks!” she calls out after you.

You lift your mug in answer, ascending the stairs quickly and entering the bedroom you’ve been sharing with Evie. She reclines in an arm chair with Lillian held to her chest. The baby suckles at her breast, all wailing gone.

Evie glances up and you instantly see the exhaustion. Having a newborn isn’t easy, but it’s so much worse without a partner. Evie might have you and Amelia to help, but who she really needs is Archie. She deserves to have her husband here with her.

When you returned from your trip with Simon, you tried not to hound Evie about what happened while you away. Spending time in Scotland helped you forget everything—to take the burden off your shoulders for a while. It was nice. Lovely. Simon helped you slip into comfort. You were safe and loved while you were with him.

Evie insisted that everything was calm while you were gone. Nothing but rest, but you know it’s a lie. She’s been pensive—a bit withdrawn since your return.

It’s troubling, and you’ve been keeping an extra eye on her. The only time you see Evie smile is when she’s looking at Lillian.

You take a sip of your coffee. “After you’re done feeding, I can watch her for a bit. Take a shower?”

Evie softly shakes her head. “I’ll be fine.”

You pop a hip. “When’s the last time you showered, Evelyn Green?”

This time she smiles, and it reminds you just how infrequently you’ve seen that side of her. She sighs with exaggeration, and that is all the answer you need. Evie’s lips part, and you hold up your hand, silencing whatever rebuttal she’s forming.

“No arguments,” you insist. “Shower. Breakfast. And I’ll take Lillian.”

Evie’s gaze softens. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her focus returning to the little bundle in her arms.

When Lillian is done feeding, you take her from Evie’s arms and head downstairs. You want Evie to take her time and enjoy the shower. Sometimes she tries to handle things alone, and she simply can’t. It’s why you’re here and not back in America.

Amelia putters about in the kitchen preparing breakfast. You sink down onto the sofa, placing your mug on the coffee table before situating Lillian into her bouncer. It’s not automated, but you’ve found using the toe of your foot to keeps it in motion while keeping your arms free.

Lillian’s eyes are open. Those beautiful blues shift around, exploring her surroundings. It takes a bit, but she eventually falls back into slumber. Leaning forward, you examine her little fists. Her fingers are curled tight and it takes forever to wiggle a single finger free.

“Need to clip your nails, little lady,” you muse.

Lillian’s response is a slow blink and a yawn before falling back asleep. You laugh softly and lightly tap the tip of her nose. She wiggles a bit, face scrunching, but she doesn’t wake.

“Now. Where are your clippers,” you ponder, glancing up.

As you search your brain for where they might be, a harsh knock comes from the front door. You turn in the direction of the sound, staring through the doorway of the living room, unsure of who might be here at such an early hour.

It’s not even ten in the morning.

“Can you get the door, dear,” calls Amelia from the kitchen.

“I have Lillian,” you reply back, still staring at the front door.

“Blast,” swears Amelia.

You hear shuffling, and then the clanking of pans just before Amelia comes around the corner. Another knock follows, this one more insistent than the last. Amelia huffs, strands of grey hair slipping from her bun as she rushes toward the door.

Returning your attention to Lillian, you move the toes of your feet against the bouncer, giving the contraption some movement to keep the infant asleep.

“What are you doing here?”

Amelia’s question comes out like a bullet. An accusation laced in metal. You’re immediately on alert.

Leaning away from Lillian, you attempt to see around the old woman. Your view is partially obstructed, and you can’t entirely make out who is on the other side of the door.

Their answer is muffled, and while you don’t catch any words, their tone of voice sounds familiar. What’s irritating though is that you can’t seem to place it.

Frowning, you stand, staying close to Lillian. There isn’t one but two people at the front door. You take a step forward and to the right in order to see over Amelia’s shoulder.

Your blood solidifies in your veins. Becomes ice. That coldness creeps outward, snagging bone and muscle until you’re rigid and unbelieving. Evie is upstairs right now and has no idea that her in-laws are at the door.

Archie’s father, Charles, wears a perfectly tailored tweed coat and black slacks. His wrinkled face is formed into a severe frown, as if seeing Amelia and being here at all is entirely distasteful. Archie’s mother, Miriam, stands next to him. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a severe bun, skin so tight from the hairstyle her expression remains neutral.

Fuck.

“The two of you should leave,” says Amelia, tone flat.

“We came to see our granddaughter, Amelia,” replies Charles just as flatly. “And it’s not your decision.”

Amelia scoffs. “It’s my bloody house. And neither of you are welcome.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You know this.”

This has nowhere to go but south.

Miriam’s eyes widen slightly but the rest of her face remains the same. The woman is so vain she’s likely had recent work done. “You would deny us, Amelia? After everything?”

After everything? As if they deserve to take one step into this house or interact with Lillian at all. You don’t want to be part of this conversation, and Lillian is right here, next to you. Oblivious and asleep. There is no way you can slip past the bickering trio to hide her upstairs.

“Fuck,” you mutter, as you attempt to sort out your next steps.

You can’t see Amelia’s face but you hear the anger in her tone. “Leave.”

Charles and Miriam stay where they are. Of course they do. They’re wealthy. They own an obscene amount of land. And they know a slew of influential people. They won’t budge. Not for anyone. They stick their noses up at everyone that don’t deem worthy of their attention.

“We drove—”

“Your driver drove,” corrects Amelia, and Charles rolls his eyes.

“Semantics,” he sighs, removing his scarf. “We came to see our granddaughter. Let us in.”

You don’t like his abrasive, pushy tone. This is the exact shit that pisses you off.

Amelia stands her ground. “You’re not allowed in this house. You know that, Charles.”

Why he isn’t allowed inside the house is beyond you, but you suspect it has to do with Evie and Lillian’s presence. If they weren’t here, Amelia might allow them entry.

Charles’ frown deepens somehow, his cheeks going bright red. “Where is Evelyn? I’d like to speak with my daughter-in-law.”

They haven’t spoken to Evie once since Archie’s death. The only contact she’s had at all from them is through their solicitor.

“She’s not here,” says Amelia.

“Absurd. Of course she is.”

You glance down at Lillian and sigh.

“It’s the friend.”

Friend drips off Miriam’s tongue like a viper. It stings your skin, and you hate that it does. This is the same woman who called Evie a leech on her wedding day. Her slimy demeanor never got under your skin but it does now.

You turn, ready to strike out, but a soft voice cuts through the tension.

“It’s okay, Amelia. Let them in.”

Evie stands on the bottom step of the stairs. Her brown hair is still damp from the shower. She wears a dark green fluffy robe. Evie appears less tired than before. Maybe the shower refreshed her.

Amelia glances between Evie and Archie’s parents before stepping aside, allowing them entrance. The movement is sluggish—almost reluctant.

Charles extends a hand and Miriam enters first. Her gaze knocks Evie, and then Amelia before turning inward, noticing you, and then—

Before the words even leave her mouth, you block Miriam’s view of Lillian. Her lips become a thin line and she clutches her purse like you’re about to snag it from her at any moment.

Charles enters in behind her, frown unchanging. He studies you a moment, and then the blocked bouncer.

“Is Lillian there?” he asks, taking a step forward.

You match his movement. “She’s sleeping.”

Amelia follows behind like a brewing storm. She gestures at the two lounge chairs across from the sofa. “The two of you sit there.”

Charles and Miriam glance around as if afraid to touch anything. You feel their distaste for the space ooze from them in a wave. They eventually sit, though they do so reluctantly. Miriam’s completely rigid.

You wait until Evie takes a seat. She selects the middle of the sofa, directly in front of Lillian. Amelia settles to Evie’s left and you end up on the right. Evie reaches out and lightly presses on the bouncer until it begins to softly rock.

“Thank you for inviting us in, Evelyn,” says Charles. He hasn’t removed his coat and neither has Miriam.

Strange. Perhaps they don’t plan on staying.

“Of course,” she replies. “I just want peace between everyone.”

Evie is always the optimist. She cares about everyone else before herself. In this, you wish she’d be a little selfish. Archie’s parents have always been awful, and being kind to them doesn’t seem worth the effort.

Removing your phone from your pocket, you send out a quick text to Archie’s solicitor. He told you no interactions, but Evie let them in, and he needs to be here or at least be aware of the situation.

Mister Grant responds almost immediately.

I’m on my way.

For a second, your fingers hesitate. Simon told you to text or call if something came up. That he would act as a buffer if necessary. But Mister Grant is already on the way, and it’s early. Simon is probably in his shop getting ready for a day full of clients. You don’t want to bother him with this. It’s not his battle.

You place the phone screen-side down on top of your thigh.

“I agree,” says Charles. He clears his throat. “It’s why we’ve come.”

Amelia snorts and Charles shoots her a look. Amelia stares right back, unafraid. “And what is your version of peace, Charles? Hm?” She looks ready to brawl.

Thank fuck for her. You’ve faced these two plenty of times but it’s better with backup.

Amelia isn’t Charles’ biological mother. His mother died suddenly, but his father, James Williams eventually remarried before divorcing that woman and marrying Amelia. Amelia and James were together for almost eight years before they separated. The fourth wife was James’ last. While Archie never cared about his grandfather’s many wives, Charles has always been vocal about his faithfulness to one woman.

Evie isn’t making eye contact with anyone except her daughter. There is a small, sad smile on your friend’s face that clenches your heart.

“A peace that has everyone’s best interest. I think we can all agree that Lillian’s health and future come first,” answers Charles.

“Indeed,” muses Amelia. “And what does this look like to the two of you?” She glances between them. “You didn’t drive all the way to my home just for a quick visit.”

Charles and Miriam share a look.

Your heart drops into your stomach. The tips of your fingers grow numb. Evie’s gaze is still on Lillian but her fingers no longer press against the bouncer. They’ve gone still.

Charles clears his throat before reaching into an inside pocket hidden within his tweed coat. Withdrawing some folded papers, he begins to smooth them out.

“What is this, Charles?” asks Amelia, worry in her voice.

“Our lawyers drafted this. All Evelyn needs to do is sign.”

Evie finally glances up. “Sign what?” Her voice sounds a little distant and shaky.

“You’re not signing anything,” you say to Evie, placing your hand on her knee.

Charles keeps his gaze on Evie. Even Miriam is looking at her intently. They both sit up straight, clearly uncomfortable.

“Wait until Mister Grant gets here,” you murmur. “He can take a look at it.”

“That won’t be necessary,” interrupts Charles. He retrieves a pen from his pocket, clicking the end. “Just sign at the bottom, and you’ll never see us again.”

“Sounds like a bloody dream,” mutters Amelia.

“So you didn’t come to see Lillian?” asks Evie.

“We did,” affirms Miriam.

Even as she says this, something doesn’t sit right with you. Ever since Archie’s death, his parents have done nothing but make Evie’s life hell. Why would they come for a ‘final visit’ before breaking off ties entirely?

“There’s a catch,” you say. “What is it?”

Charles’ gaze moves to you and his frown deepens. “All Evelyn needs to do—”

“What do you want, Charles?” snaps Amelia. “Speak plainly.”

“You’re not the child’s grandmother nor are you her mother, Amelia,” growls Charles. “Stay out of this.”

“And yet I have been more of a parent to Archie than either of you,” she retorts.

Charles’ lip curls, the papers shaking in his fist. “You were a lounge singer my father had a fancy for. And when he tired of you, he left.” He takes a deep breath. “Thankfully.”

“James would be ashamed of your behavior,” hisses Amelia.

“My father is dead and I am the head of the Williams estate,” snarls Charles. He drops the stack of papers into his lap. “And this matter only concerns us and Evelyn.”

Miriam leans forward, her gaze on the bouncer. “Lillian will be happy. All her needs will be provided for.”

Evie’s head tilts slightly. “Lillian already has what she needs.”

This conversation is spiraling. Your head is spinning. Maybe you should have contacted Simon. He’s much closer to you than Mister Grant.

Miriam sighs and you immediately want to throw them out the door. This is going nowhere except downhill. They have a fucking agenda. You know this deep in your bones.

“Lillian is our granddaughter. We want what’s best.”

“And I’m her mother,” breathes Evie. “I know what’s best for her.”

“Do you, Evelyn?” replies Charles. He smooths the papers again and holds them out. “It would be best for everyone if Lillian leaves with us.”

It would be best for everyone if Lillian leaves with us.

No. Fucking no.

You should have texted Simon. They’d cower in his presence. He’s the intimidation you need in a situation like this. But Simon is not here.

It is just you, Evie, and Amelia against two entitled assholes who can’t leave things alone.

“Lillian is not leaving with you,” you say coolly, fingers curling around your phone.

“That is for Evie to decide,” replies Charles, matching your tone.

Evie shakes her head. “Lillian is mine.”

Amelia stands, her anger on full display. “You will leave this house immediately.” Her voice is so cold. All bottled fury.

“Amelia—”

“Leave, Charles. Take your wife and piss off.”

“Amelia!” cries Miriam, also standing.

Charles pops up from his seat, his free hand out to stop his wife from moving forward. He tosses the papers onto the coffee table and then steps back to place his hand on his wife’s arm.

“I see we aren’t wanted.” Charles grabs his scarf as tears begin to form in Evie’s eyes. “Think about it, Evelyn. You know we can provide a better life for her.”

Amelia crosses her arms as Charles and Miriam see themselves out. When the door is shut, Amelia storms over, engaging the lock.

“The fucking nerve,” she says.

Evie grabs Lillian and abruptly stands, clutching the infant to her chest. “I need to lay down.” She pauses. “And pump.” Her voice cracks on the end before she takes off up the stairs.

You watch her go, your heart heavy. Amelia sighs and walks past you, entering the kitchen.

Amelia sighs and walks past you, entering the kitchen. Breakfast is likely ruined but you’re no longer hungry.

When Mister Grant arrives, he retrieves the papers Charles left and promises that he’ll look into it. He remains calm during the exchange, but even you can tell this situation rattles him. It’s not uplifting, and it only turns your stomach.

The rest of the day is a blur. You hardly feel anything. Most of your time is spent checking emails and catching up on work. Even then, it’s fuzzy. Completely separate as if you’re looking through a foggy window. The words on your computer screen mean nothing and your head hurts something fierce.

You’re aching inside. Wanting—needing comfort. You crave strong arms around you, and a comforting warmth only a specific person can provide.

But you don’t seek Simon out, though you want to. Instead, you sulk on the sofa, leaving the bedroom to Evie. She needs her space and time alone. You don’t want to shake things up after all that’s happened.

It’s not until the next day that you realize how much you miss Simon. Over a week has passed, and yesterday was hell. You need to feel his hands on your body. To hear his gruff voice in your ear. To feel that perfect stretch of him inside you.

Anything.

You’ll take anything Simon is willing to give. You just need him right now.

The hour is late, but you’re desperate. The walk to his place is short. Brief. You didn’t call ahead, but you weren’t thinking of that when you walked out the door. The only thing on your mind is getting to him.

Simon gave you a key to the exterior door that leads into the cramped hallway up to his apartment. It’s dark when you enter, and you shut it behind you softly, lingering just inside the doorway for a moment as you catch your breath.

You ascend the staircase, pausing at Simon’s apartment door. As your fist rises to knock, you hesitate, the stress of yesterday catching up to you. It hits like a wave and you feel the tears welling up unbidden.

Knocking sharply, you step back from the door.

Bravo doesn’t bark. It’s all quiet on the other end. That would be just your luck for Simon not to be home.

But then you hear heavy footfalls, and the door swings open.

Simon is maskless and his eyes widen slightly at your appearance.

“Simon,” you murmur, not recognizing your own voice. It’s cracking. Shattering.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quickly, reaching out to take you into his arms.

As his arms go out to pull you close, you drape your own around his neck. Pulling him close, you bring him in for a fierce kiss. You are demanding. Needy. Simon senses this immediately. He melts against you, the two of you tangling until one of you has to come up for air.

“I need you, Simon,” you murmur against his mouth. “I don’t want to feel anything. Just you. Only you.”

The middle of Simon’s brow furrows, his gaze traveling all over your face like he’s trying to map your pain. He sees a problem, and he wants to solve it. You’ve seen this assessing gaze before. But you don’t need Simon to solve anything. You just need him to fuck you.

The two of you can talk afterward.

“Please,” you whimper and Simon relents.

He drags you inside, slamming the door shut with one hand. He shoves you up against the wall, trapping you there, his pelvis pressing against your stomach. You cling to him, fingers digging into the back of his neck.

Simon steals your breath, devours you with kisses that bring a slickness to your core. This is how you needed to be kissed. It is melting away the ice. Warming you everywhere. You seize more of them, hungry to consume as many as you can. You are a greedy thing, and Simon willingly submits, indulging you completely.

Your fingers claw at his clothes. You want them off. You want them gone. There is nothing you long for more than to feel Simon against you, to know only his flesh and touch. Everything buzzes. Everything aches.

Simon heeds your desire. He pulls on your clothes just as you tug at his. Pieces start to fall away. Drifting to the floor. Skin is revealed, and Simon is warm beneath your hands. He is all hardness. Pure strength.

You explore his angles and ridges, fingers trailing over tattoos and scars. Simon groans with every touch, pressing harder against you, grasping your hips and waist and thighs as if the two of you have been separated for an eternity.

Your hands descend, and Simon groans loudly when you wrap your hand around him.

“This is what I want,” you murmur. You release him, grab his hand, guide it between your legs. “And I want it here.”

“Fuck, love,” growls Simon. Bending at the knees and sliding his arms under your thighs, he lifts you off the ground and presses you against the wall again. You wrap your legs around him, hooking your ankle behind his back.

Simon slides home, filling you completely with one quick thrust.

Your fingers dig into his skin, leaving half-moons behind.

Simon isn’t slow. He is just as desperate, using your body in the exact way you need him too. This is what you needed—what you desired.

Skin against skin. Exchanged kisses and breath. Dark eyes with pale eyelashes staring into your soul. The man you love claiming you.

Your lungs are full of him.

Vanilla. Black tea. A hint of smoke.

All you feel is Simon.

It is intoxicating, and you are drowning.

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[anystalker707]

I knew it

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: Zoro likes you, and his feelings are clearly returned, but both of you seem oblivious to it. Tags: Clingy Zoro / But he sucks at expressing his feelings / he's dumb and grumpy but also very loving / Usopp thinks he's funny a/n: not proofread

MASTERLIST

          “You literally have anywhere else to do to sleep,” you mumbled, mostly distracted by the newspaper in your hands than the way Zoro had just made his way over to lie down next to you to nap again. It’d been built into a habit once he got able to move again after the Mihawk incident. “The hammocks are actually more comfortable. Even the couch.”

“Did I ask?” Zoro said with the same flat voice as always.

Even if you were sitting on the floor of the front deck with your back against the wall, Zoro still showed up to lie down nearby with his head on your hip, almost on the side of your thigh.

The rude answer made you click your tongue and slide to the side; his head hit the ground as a result. “Fuck off,” he grumbled as he moved closer, so he could resume his previous position.

“Stop being so annoying.” You tapped his forehead—not strongly, but still enough to make him scrunch his nose, scowling. He moved over and rested his head on your lap properly, just out of spite. Asshole.

Sometimes, Zoro would fall asleep so easily that it was impossible not to envy him. It only took him a couple of moments before his breath was even and his face in a neutral, relaxed state again. You continued reading the newspapers, checking the news, until you heard Sanji call out that he had prepared something for the crew to eat until lunch was ready. Luffy probably insisted too much, and Sanji wouldn’t cook something like this exclusively for Luffy, even if the captain still believed so.

Only the smell of whatever meal it was made your mouth water, but Zoro didn’t seem like he would move an inch now. Your leg even felt a little numb.

“No,” you groaned as you looked down at Zoro, but then you saw someone walk past, rushing down the stairs to get food as well. Thankfully, it was Usopp—you didn’t want to get charged extra berries by Nami or have your food stolen by Luffy. “Usopp! Usopp!”

Usopp stopped in his tracks, almost tripping as he finally stopped and looked back at you. He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at Zoro, but dismissed it as he nodded, questioningly.

“Could you pretty please get me some food? The idiot is not letting me get up so soon!” You motioned to Zoro with a sigh.

“Oh!” Usopp grinned and winked at you with a grin, making an ok sigh with his hand. “Count with Go D Usopp!” He jogged off to where Sanji stood in front of the galley door and soon came back with a small plate, handing it to you. “There you go! Also grabbed some for your sleepy boyfriend!”

You were about to thank Usopp when you paused and raised an eyebrow at him, slowly taking the plate. “What?”

“No need to play clueless with me.” He winked before he ran off again.

The words stuck to your mind for a while as you sat still, looking at nothing in particular while processing Usopp’s words. Zoro? Your boyfriend? You clicked your tongue, feeling your cheeks grow red at the thought. Why would you like a bastard like that?

A sigh escaped your lips as you brought your legs up, thighs close to your torso, inevitably making Zoro’s head fall to the ground again. His eyes immediately shot open as he sat up, rubbing the back of your head. He scowled while looking at you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“With me?” You scoffed. “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m not your personal pillow!”

Zoro clicked his tongue and looked away for a moment, shaking his head.  “Stop talking nonsense.” He could notice something off and urgent about your manners—did he really make you that angry?

“Want some?” You were holding the plate in front of his face before he could conclude his reasoning.

The way you’d practically shoved it on his face made Zoro lean back a little, eyebrows furrowing as he inspected what was on the plate. It seemed like mochi. Matcha mochi, if he were right, and those were great. They were nice without being too sweet. He grabbed both mochis and ate them without thinking twice.

You furrowed your eyebrows before looking at the plate, and then your face fell blank. “You ate the two.”

Zoro blinked, tilting his head a little. “Yeah?”

“One was mine,” you said through gritted teeth, narrowing your eyes at him. “You suck, Zoro, really?” You hit his head lightly with the plate; it wouldn’t be a surprise if it made a hollow sound. “I really wanted those!” It was the very first time Sanji had prepared those, and you were always eager to try the stuff he prepared for the first time. Even if it wasn’t something you didn’t usually like, Sanji’s cooking made you wish to try it, depending on what it was.

“Ow!” Zoro held his head, scowling as he looked at you. “I didn’t know! You should’ve grabbed it first if it were yours, then! You shoved it all in my face! What was I supposed to think?”

You sighed in frustration, observing the empty plate, then glanced up at Zoro. He still sat next to you, but now leaned on a hand, more to his side, while still looking at you, expecting an answer. When your eyes met his own, though, he clicked his tongue and looked away, rubbing his face.

“Don’t look at me like that!” He sighed sharply.

“Like what?” You scoffed.

“Like that!” He motioned to you, but it was as much of a help as if he’d stayed silent.

“Zoro!” You breathed, shaking your head. Man ate your food, and now he’s the one angry at you? You didn’t think he’d actually start being stubborn today.

“Damn it,” Zoro grumbled as he stood up, hand on his swords as usual, while he stepped away. What did that even mean?

A sigh escaped your lips as you just observed Zoro leave. Okay, then. You were sort of used to his nonsense behavior, but it still managed to impress you from time to time. The crew had some sort of trend going on.

“Damn it,” you mimicked Zoro as you stood up and took the plate back to the galley.

The nice smell of food already filled the deck, but it felt even better inside the galley. Your stomach shifted with it, your mouth watering. Eating decently was like heaven—you made a mental note to thank Sanji for accepting to join the crew.

Sanji was by the stove, stirring the food that boiled and cooked in the pans. He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“I really wanted the mochi,” you mumbled.

“Oh, no,” Sanji sighed as he glanced at you again. “Did Luffy eat yours? I made sure to make enough for everyone!” He tapped a wooden spoon on the rim of a pan before he set it aside.

“Zoro did,” you mumbled, moving to grab the plates from the cabinet. A little help wouldn’t hurt and, even if Sanji denied it, he did appreciate every little help he got.

“Huh?” Sanji furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head with a sigh. “That stupid moss head. Sorry about that. I can prepare it for you later if you’d like.” He smiled as he turned off the stove and started preparing the dishes’ presentation on the platters.

“No, no,” you said softly. “It’s fine. Thanks, though.”

It felt like it was a sick prank that the only free spot for Zoro was the one next to you. He did sit next to you at first, yeah, even serving himself and starting to eat along with everyone else. Halfway through it, though, Zoro covered his face with a hand. He said something under his breath, but all you could make out were the curses he said before taking his plate and leaving the galley to go eat on the deck.

You stared at the empty seat for a moment with the same indignant look from earlier. Was Zoro going crazy or something? Fuck off, you deserved to have a moment of peace.

“(Y/n)?” Sanji’s voice pulled you off your thoughts. “Are you really alright?”

It took you a few seconds to ground yourself again. Your eyes averted to Sanji as you went back to eating, slowly nodding. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for worrying, though.”

No one really said anything, despite the looks. At some point, your eyes met Usopp’s during lunch—he clicked his tongue with that grin of his, shaking his head as if wordlessly telling you that things would be okay. It made you remember his comment from earlier, and you had to do your best not to jump at his throat with the knife.

          The afternoon went by quite slowly. You didn’t have a lot to do after you helped Nami a little just to kill the boredom, listening to her explanation about her maps and her process of making them. None of the information actually stuck to your mind, but it was nice seeing how she liked talking about it.

At the lack of what to do, you sat on the main deck again to watch the sunset, this time. You sat on the wooden boxes off to the wall, so you wouldn’t be on the ground again, but with space to cross your legs. Better than the floor and with more space than the chair. The sunset was a little off to the left, but you still could have a good view of it from where you were.

The waves were calmer today, so the reflection of the sky seemed clearer on the sea. It was always so pretty to watch the sunset from different places you sailed to, and—

“There you are,” a voice cut through your thoughts, and the pressure on your thigh made you look down to see Zoro was there again.

You widened your eyes, double-checking to see if it was really happening after all that happened. Was this going to become some sort of trend? Pushing you off and then coming back as if nothing happened? He was everywhere and with you all the time, which made you wonder why, since he would often just freak out and leave like that. It was all comfortable and nice until he decided you were freaking out and left, like he did a couple of times already.

“Damn it, Zoro,” you mumbled with a sigh but didn’t do much anymore as you turned your head to watch the sunset again. Who or what did he think he was? A damn cat?

Time went by as you held your hand up against your chest for a little too long, not knowing where to place it with Zoro there. However, with the way it started aching, you didn’t have much choice but to let your hand down over Zoro’s shoulder at first. Your hand twitched a little as you cogitated whether you should do it or not. Zoro didn’t typically like to be touchy. The way he didn’t react at all, though, made you confident to just rest your whole forearm across his chest, despite still being a little tense.

The sunset was beautiful, as always, but still unique. The sun eventually disappeared down the horizon, giving place for the stars to cover the sky. You’d only noticed how late it became when you heard Luffy complain about dinner being too late while Nami talked about turning the lights on.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one brought back to reality.

“Fuck,” Zoro groaned as he stirred awake, chest rising under your forearm with a sharp inhale—you didn’t know you’d let it relax on his chest. “God, is it so late already?” He clicked his tongue, rubbing his eye. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Am I supposed to?” You scoffed, poking Zoro’s shoulder a little. He groaned and tried to push your hand away.

“It’s your job,” he mumbled.

Was he joking? A chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head, but you silenced yourself. You didn’t want him to push you away again.

Zoro sighed before he looked up at you, still with his head on your lap. “What’s wrong?”

You pressed your lips together, thinking about it for a moment. “Maybe I should be the one asking you that,” you whispered. If he heard it, it’d be a cue to talk about it. If he didn’t, you’d just let the subject go again.

“What?” Zoro sat up with a sigh, shifting to sit right beside you. “What’d be wrong with me?”

You stretched your legs, letting them hang from the edge of the wooden box. It ached a little with the change of positions. The thought that Zoro could judge you for any little thing made you look away, facing the sea as you spoke. “Could you just stop pushing me away? Like, I’ll let you sleep on my lap and all, but you don’t need to keep pushing me away.”

“Pushing you away?” He furrowed his eyebrows, leaning forward a little to look past you to check what you were looking at.

Really? You turned to Zoro with a scoff—he widened his eyes a little and leaned back lightly. “You refused to sit beside me at lunch for no reason! Why wouldn’t that be pushing me away? And you got mad at me after you ate my mochi?” You made a vague motion with your hand at the loss of words to explain how confused you were.

Zoro furrowed his eyebrows before he looked away, clicking his tongue. “It’s your fault!”

“My fault?”

“Does it seem like it’s my fault you’re so beautiful?” He snapped, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, looking at the ground. “I’m not supposed to endure the way you look at me! All— All cute and…” He shook his head.

Beautiful? Cute? The words ran in your mind, making your face feel hotter.

“What are you talking about?” You breathed.

Zoro glanced at you. “You’re doing it again,” he complained, and you wondered if he would have an attack when he glared at you because of the confused sound you made. “I really suck at this,” he mumbled, adjusting his posture. He took a deep breath before he faced you. “I, um…” Zoro’s eyes averted to the side. “I like you. Like, I like like you,” he mumbled, half hoping you didn’t hear that.

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times as you processed it. “You like me?”

He sighed, looking at you with a glare. Okay, he couldn’t handle this, nor could you.

“I…” It felt hard to express it, to finally put your feelings in order after disagreeing with Usopp’s assumptions so much. “Fuck it, I like you, too,” you finally confessed.

Zoro nodded, pressing his lips together as he looked down. “So?”

“So what?” You raised an eyebrow. “You just gonna—”

“I really suck at this…” He whispered mostly to himself as he looked away for a moment, seconds before he finally pressed his lips to yours.

The sudden kiss caught you by surprise, making you tense up and almost pull away, but you decided to fight your thoughts and slowly return the kiss. Your hand rested on Zoro’s shoulder, maybe holding him a little too tightly. Both the tension and surprise had you a little more breathless than you should be, breaking away from the kiss a little too soon, but not pulling away.

Zoro’s eyes scanned over your face as if taking in the details, and you couldn’t help but do the same. This was so much better than anything you could have fantasized about before going to sleep. Silence hung in the air, but you knew better than to say anything—you were the one to close the distance this time. The new kiss was slow, with a gentleness set by you as you cupped the side of his neck and tilted your head to deepen the kiss a bit, trying to enjoy every second of it.

Honestly, Zoro’s lips were clumsy. You didn’t exactly know what to expect from him, in the first place, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise nor something that you actually minded. He could be someone who only focused on training and never even thought about one-night stands, just like he could also go around all the time without any actual commitment.

There was a short pause before you two were kissing again. Zoro’s hand was on your knee as he leaned forward while kissing you, this time daring to let his tongue run along your bottom lip. You parted your lips open, but his tongue only managed to barely slip inside your mouth before both of you heard someone clearing their throat; it made you jump on your seats, pulling away and looking at the direction it came from.

From all the people you wished it were, Usopp was probably the last one.

“Well…” Usopp laughed, looking at you with his arms crossed over his chest. He had that knowing look, eyes playful when they met yours.

“Shut up,” you said at the same time as Zoro, somehow.

Usopp gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Come on, I barely said anything! I’m just here because everyone’s been wondering where the lovebirds— Ahem, I mean, the duo has been because dinner’s going cold.”

You slowly nodded, looking at the ground for a moment as you played the last events in your mind. “Yeah, right,” you sighed, getting on your feet.

Despite how you left, Zoro continued sitting there, so it was a clear opportunity for Usopp. He chuckled as he caught up with you. “I knew it.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[2dyumi]

⋆˚࿔ POWER TRIP

cw// no major warnings || wc; 1.3k

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You feel paranoid. 90% of it is definitely from the joint you huffed down just fifteen minutes before making the walk, but the other 10% is a mix of feeling like a creep for stalking around the park in the middle of the night, and meeting up with some random guy you’ve never heard of before. The Haitani’s are secretive when it comes to certain friends, especially if said friend is their dealer. It took months for them to trust you enough to get their numbers, and another three until they decided to smoke in front of you for the first time; which is still funny to think about because you were getting high in advance with some other friends prior to heading over to see the brothers. Rindou was the one who broke that barrier, busting through their apartment one day when you were lounging while waiting for Ran to finish showering. The younger Haitani was wasted and singing about his recent purchase, ending the off-key tune with a dramatic gasp at the sight of you taking up their couch. Since then, you’d sneak out and risk the twenty minute jog to their place, skipping steps on your way up the three flights of emergency stairs since the elevator always seemed to be out of order, and down the hall to their unit. 

First, they’d make you pay them back for your share by having you run to the convenience store for snacks, but with your dedication to it, Ran was the one who said you could buy whatever extras they had. It’s both a punishment and reward; starving your wallet but at least you’ve got something to keep you sane when you spend your days and nights alone. 

Pacing, you walk in circles around the swingset, flinching at every leaf rustling from the calm breeze and cricket chirping. It hasn’t been the full five minutes, but you’re ready to say ‘fuck it’ and dip. It’s cold, dark, and the perfect scenario for the beginning of a horror movie where you’ll die first. Taking a seat on one of the swings when your legs start to feel like jello, your elbows land on your knees and you slouch to place your head in your palms, rocking from heel to toe just for some movement. Your chest pounds painfully with anxiety while your thoughts seem to work in slow motion, canceling out all of your other senses from properly functioning. It gets to a point where you’re forcing yourself to zone out on a random spot on your shoes to calm down, finding a way to re-enter that peaceful state of mind. In a few deep breaths your heartbeat calms down and your breathing regulates, a ringing in your ears that you weren’t aware of until it slowly quiets down makes you pick up on the soft padding of footsteps. 

Your head doesn’t leave your hands fast enough, though, just a flinch running up your spine when the chains of the swing next to you rattle and creak from a weight that isn't the wind. There’s another set of feet next to yours now, wearing a similar pair of converse but they’re a light blue instead of the original black and white. Your gaze works its way up from his feet to his hands in his lap, staring at his fingers for longer than you anticipated, then up to his face. He has a scowl, looking like he’s plotting a murder in his mind and you pray it’s not yours. 

“Are you going to keep staring or can we get this over with?” he suddenly asks, watching your hands fly off the chains to cover your face. It’s funny how you think you’re hiding, but he can still feel your gaze on him. “If you want, I'll just leave it right here.” 

Following his movements when he stands, he bends down to place a cute little gift bag next to your feet, standing in front of you with his hand held out. 

Oh, duh! 

“Wait, you’re Souya?!” you ask, looking up at him. You’re able to get a better view of his features now, seeing the mess of blue curls on his head and matching cornflower eyes that squint at the question. It’s obvious, who else would he be? He takes a step back when you rise from the swing, turning on the flashlight from his phone when you hold out some cash after digging around in your pocket. 

“Hold this for me, please,” he passes his phone into your hands, maneuvering your grip on it so it points down at the cash in his hand as he counts it. It’s your fault for only having smaller bills, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you for making him have to go through extra work. Pocketing the money, he grabs the gift bag once again and opens it up, holding it under the light so you can see the contents inside. 

“You didn’t specify what strains and I know you asked for an eighth, but my big bro had some extra so I gave you some leftover indica buds we had, and the rest are sativa,” he says while pointing at different bags, but his words make no sense. “I think one is ‘wedding cake’… I'm not sure.” 

While eyeing the cannabis, you realize how much there actually is, and dramatically gasp. He meets your widened stare and furrows his already pinched brows, wondering if he said something wrong. 

“Wait, wait,” you shake your head, spitting out a shy laugh. “This is way too much, and even I’m not greedy enough to accept all of this.” 

Souya smiles. It’s very subtle, but you can see his lips twitch when they curl. “It’s fine, really. Think of it as… a first-time ‘customer’ bundle,” he reassures, but it’s not enough to ease your increasing heart rate. 

“No, hold on,” you shove his phone back into his hands, unaware of how sloppy and heavy the action was, ignoring the soft grunt he tried to suppress.

You’re glad you brought some extra cash along, and even though it was meant to buy some snacks on the way back home, you don’t hesitate to unzip your jacket and dig around in your bra. He turns his head away once your finger’s enter your shirt, accidentally catching sight of your cleavage before he tore his sights away, and his cheeks heat up with shame for seeing an area so personal. You fight around your breast to pull the rolled up cash out, yelping when it scratches against your nipple; already sensitive from the cool midnight air. Counting it with a mutter, Souya brings his attention back to you when you hold the extra five-dollars out. 

“It’s not much extra, but I promise I’ll pay you some more another day!” You chew the insides of your cheeks, smiling when he slowly takes it from your cold fingers. “And thank you, for texting back and meeting up so late. Oh! Plus the extra stuff, you’re too kind,” your words are sweet, making Souya return your smile with a chuckle and nod. 

“Yeah, of course. I live right down there—” he uses the light from his phone to point it at the street opposite of where your building is, turning the flash off after facing away. “—so it wasn’t too much of a hassle,” he shrugs. 

“Woah, what,” you spin around quickly, throwing an arm up to point towards an apartment complex. “I live over there! See the pink lights? That’s my room!” It’s wrong to give away your place, you know that–but at the moment it doesn’t feel so criminal, not when you’re making a new friend. Well… you hope he’s a friend. “Anyway, I should head back now. I left the door propped open a bit and my neighbors are… not the best so, thanks again!”

Souya gives a small smile, one you can’t make out right away and it’s gone in a few seconds when he nods. His hand comes up to wave, and he’s turning on his heels to walk in the opposite direction when you return the gesture before rushing off. 

--tags; @anahoyingkawata

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Better Than Cake

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~4.2k

Summary: Wanda makes sure you enjoy your special day.

A/N: 18+ only, istg I’ll block blank and ageless blogs. 😤Anon request: What about Wanda and reader celebrating an anniversary or birthday? Thank you for writing such a cute au!!! Hope you don’t mind that it took this turn. Can also do a mostly fluff fic later. lmk

Warnings: Absolute filth (smut) and a lot of cuteness. 

The lights are off when you arrive home from work the night of your birthday. You had promised Wanda that you’d do your best to get home on time so you could spend time with her, but of course work had other plans. You hadn’t told anyone it was your birthday because you didn’t like having any extra attention on you. However, this didn’t matter much when someone brought cupcakes and a cheesecake for you. You’d been touched and hadn’t even minded the many ‘happy birthday’s you’d gotten throughout the day as a result. You’d never be upset about people feeding you, and since they were polite enough to not ask how old you were, you took it as a win.

However, the last appointment of the day had changed your luck, and you’d ended up staying almost an hour after closing. The complicated case that came in had been difficult to handle and the clients hadn’t been the most compliant. At the end of the day, the dog had been treated and you got to go home, so it was all good in your book. You just wish you’d gotten home earlier to help your wife make dinner. You’d told her you didn’t want anything special, you just wanted to be able to spend some time with her and cook. She’d told you ‘whatever you want’ since it was your birthday and you’d talked to her a bit throughout the day.

Boone darts into the dark house as soon as you arrive and heads to his food bowl that is full and waiting for him as usual. You look around for your wife while closing the door behind you quietly.

“Wanda?”

You don’t smell any food cooking which makes you happy but also hungrier at the same time. You don’t see Wanda in the living room napping or at all and you frown as you look toward the stairs. The only light on in the house is in your bedroom and you figure Wanda is in there just waiting for you to come home. You leave Boone to his dinner and wander upstairs in search of your wife.

“Wands?”

“Come in, detka.”

You hear her respond as you walk toward the bedroom and stop in front of the door for a moment. You both take a deep breath as you push it open slowly. You’re greeted by the room resembling the rest of the house. It’s mostly dark, and the only light comes from a dozen candles that are scattered around the room casting a soft glow. You smile before you even look to the bed to see your wife waiting for you, and the smile drops slightly as your jaw slackens at the sight.

“Happy birthday, Y/n.”

You’re trying to get your mouth to work as you take in your wife’s get up. You remember buying her this set of lingerie from your last trip, and you were so glad to see her in it again. It was your favorite color, and it accentuated your wife’s perfect body making you practically drool on sight. You take another deep breath as you walk into the room and shut the door behind you with a smile. You focus solely on your wife and how the way she lounges on the bed shows off her long legs and pulls your focus to her full breasts that are barely contained in the thin lace. Her long red hair frames her beautiful face and you can’t help but feel blessed.

“Thanks, Wands, um. You look…”

You trail off because Wanda’s moved so she’s sitting up and you watch as her hair falls perfectly over her green lace and you nearly moan. Your wife subtly pushes her breasts together as she leans in towards you, and you actually trip as you step closer to the bed. You fall to your knees which is embarrassing but where you’d probably end up anyway so you just stay there as you try to hide your blush by staring at the comforter. Your wife giggles and it immediately draws your attention back to her and her smile.

“You okay?”

“Perfect. You look perfect as always. Are you my present?”

Wanda can’t stop herself from flushing slightly at your question, and excitement at the fact that you seem on board with her plan. It wasn’t too thought out honestly. She got dressed down and turned off the lights to create an ideal ambiance. You’ve only had fake candles in the house since Fletcher jumped up on the dinner table and burnt herself one night. Wanda had been so distraught that you’d put all of the candles in storage or donated them to your slightly confused friends.

When Wanda reaches out for you and drags you toward the bed you just let her. You can smell her perfume from here and it’s making you dizzy the closer you get to it. You start to get up, but Wanda puts a hand on your shoulder to keep you kneeling. You almost groan impatiently but Wanda’s smirk makes you think twice.

“Part of your gift, dekta. The rest comes after you get your fill of me. If that’s okay with you.”

You’re nodding before Wanda even finishes her sentence and she smiles at you lovingly. Your excitement is flattering and enough for the last of Wanda’s nerves to dissipate. You’d told her that you didn’t want anything special for your birthday, and she’d wanted to honor that. However, throughout the day she’d realized that you deserved at least something to celebrate your big day. She was glad that you seemed pleased with her offer and she encouraged you to stand up before she got to her knees so she could meet your lips for a kiss.

You moan as your wife’s tongue pushes past your lips insistently. You let her take the lead as you just bask in the feeling of her bare skin beneath your fingers. You squeeze her hips and feel yourself flush as Wanda presses her front against yours. She tugs on your hair making you hiss as she breaks away to kiss your neck.

“Tell me what you want, Y/n.”

Your eyes fall shut at the feeling of your wife’s lips kissing your heated skin, and you groan when she bites hard enough to leave a bruise. You realize you haven’t responded and you take a deep breath before you try and decide what you want first. You’re feeling a little selfish, but since it’s your birthday you figure that it’s allowed. You smile widely as you run your hands up your wife’s sides with a thoughtful hum before letting them fall back to her hips.

“I want to taste you. You look delicious, my love.”

Wanda leans in for a chaste kiss before offering you a smile.

“Whatever you want, birthday girl.”

You try not to act as feral as you feel now that you’ve been given free reign of your beautiful birthday present. You stay on the ground for now, and you fall back to your knees so you can kiss your wife’s taut stomach. She’s honestly surprised that you started here, but she’s not complaining as your hands fall to her thighs as you leave wet kisses along her rapidly heating skin. She squeezes her eyes shut, and her head falls back as your mouth drifts lower and you leave a kiss on her hipbone through the lace. Wanda shudders as you continue to tease her, and she has to remind herself that it’s your birthday and she can’t rush you too much. She tangles her fingers in your hair with a sigh and tugs slightly as you start to move back up her body.

You release a chuckle but say nothing as you stand up and run your hands up your wife’s body until they’re on her shoulders. You push some of her hair behind her ear with a smile before kissing her cheek.

“Lie down for me, baby.”

Wanda had no intention of not doing as you asked and she quickly shifts before starting to lie back. You shake your head before redirecting her so she’s lying against the pillow propped against the headboard. You want her to be comfortable for what comes next, and you take a moment to admire your gorgeous wife literally laid out in front of you at your mercy. You have to push down the urge to groan at the thought of what you’re going to do her, and you just offer her a wolfish smile as you climb on the bed.

“I know it’s my birthday, but if you don’t want to do something, just say the word okay?”

Wanda feels her face flush at the thought of the many things you could have on your mind, but she doesn’t hesitate to nod. She loves you and trusts you enough to not push her limits in any way she doesn’t want. You’re always so thoughtful that she would honestly give you anything you asked, but she knows that’s not what you’d want.

So she nods and mutters an ‘okay’ under her breath that makes you smile so brightly Wanda feels her heart stutter in her chest. She’s feels so lucky to get to call you her wife.

Wanda feels herself shudder at the sight of your eyes darkening as your gaze falls to her still-covered breasts. You plan on fixing this, but you want to appreciate the sight of your wife in your favorite color for just a little longer. You move so you’re straddling her, but you keep your weight off her as you lean over to kiss her flushed cheek.

“I love you so much, Wands.”

Wanda struggles to find her words as you kiss her neck and trace your fingers over the lace of her skimpy bra. She loved this when you gave it to her, and she loved putting it on tonight, but she really wishes you’d take it off already. You’re in no hurry though as you trace the entire outline of the fabric as you leave her neck covered in hickeys that she knows you’ll help her cover up tomorrow. As much as you loved leaving them there for her to see, you didn’t like when people ogle your wife and make her feel self-conscious. You also knew better than to provide Pietro with any reason to give your wife a hard time. Not that he ever had trouble finding one.

“God, yes. I love you too.”

Wanda gasps as you push down the fabric of her bra and kiss her exposed skin hungrily. You groan as Wanda arches her back and pushes her breasts in your face in the least subtle ask possible. You squeeze one of them teasingly as you swirl your tongue around her exposed nipple making your wife gasp before biting her lip to stifle a moan.

“Fuck, detka.”

You suddenly get an idea and you sit up slightly so you can meet your wife’s unfocused gaze. You continue to torment Wanda with your touch as you moan at the sight of her so breathless.

“I’m going to make you come like this, and then I’ll taste the rest of you.”

Wanda moans loudly at the thought and she tries to take a second to control her breathing as you latch onto her again. She feels your hands leave her for a moment while they unclasp her bra and maneuver it off of her quickly. Now that she’s fully exposed you take the time to really appreciate your wife’s body. Wanda is near beside herself a couple minutes later and she almost laughs at the fact that she’s about to come already. If you’d told her that you could make her come from this alone, she would have been dubious. She may have even bet against you. She should have known better than to doubt you.

“Holy shit.”

Wanda’s still panting when you pull away and sit up with a look of admiration. You reach out to touch your wife’s cheek and you kiss her gently as you wait for her to catch her breath. You have a lot more in mind for her, but you know that getting your wife too wound up too quickly can cause her to burn out faster. You do still plan on cooking dinner with her after so you need to be a little strategic with how you want to proceed.

“Can you go again, Wands?”

Wanda is nodding before you even finish asking because she feels an uncomfortable stickiness between her legs that’s making her shift beneath you. You can’t pretend that you don’t notice, and you’re smiling by the time Wanda’s pushing you away from her. You leave her with one last kiss before sliding down her legs and spreading them apart so you can see her the damp spot on her thong. You groan under your breath and shoot Wanda a curious look that makes her blush furiously and squirm in an attempt to close her legs.

“You’ve ruined these, Wands. I’ll just have to buy you new ones I guess.”

You hold Wanda’s legs open with a smirk as you decide to confirm what you already know. You both moan as your fingers slide through the slick spot and your free hand goes to your wife’s hip to keep her still. Wanda shudders in need and you’re not going to keep her waiting. You duck your head down between your wife’s legs and run your tongue over the wet spot that continues to grow. You groan loudly at the taste and Wanda releases a breathy curse as she tries to push your face further between her legs. You frown at this and actually pull away which makes Wanda release a whine and open her eyes to search for yours.

“Can you put your hands behind your head for me?”

Wanda nearly whines again at the idea of not being able to touch you, but the alternative is you not touching her so she quickly places her hands behind her head and links her fingers together. She sighs in anticipation when you just smile and kiss her in thanks. You disappear from sight and Wanda waits with bated breath for you to get back to it.

“Good god...!”

You hold back the initial retort that comes to mind and focus instead on pleasing your wife. She knows you well enough to huff in faux annoyance because she’s heard the joke before, but she also chooses not to comment on it. Instead, she rolls her hips against your face as you devour her like she’s your dinner. She moans as you nose at her clit while burying your tongue between her soaked folds. You love the fact that Wanda is so wet and it gives you so many ideas that you have to push aside as you continue to drive your wife toward the edge.

“I’m c-close, fuck, Y/n.”

When you close your lips around her clit and suck gently, Wanda sees stars and her hips jump as she comes with a loud cry she’s sure the pets could hear downstairs. You let her ride out her high as you carefully cleaned up the remnants of her orgasm. She reaches down to push you away when she becomes too sensitive, and you stop immediately before sitting up so she can see your soaked face. She flushes in embarrassment but you just laugh before you reach out to run your hands down her still-shaking legs.

“You’re the best birthday present I could ask for. You know that don’t you?”

Wanda flushes scarlet at this and she looks away shyly at your genuine smile. She loves you so much, and she knows that you don’t mean the sex. At least she doesn’t think so, but any uncertainty is cleared up when you continue to speak as you tease her inner thighs with a happy sigh.

“As fun as this is, I just need you, Wands. You make me the happiest I’ve ever felt.”

Wanda smiles at you and she pushes herself up so she can kiss you deeply. She groans against your lips as your hands wander on their own to your wife’s waist to pull her close. She groans as she shifts against you so she can take off your shirt. She should ask, but honestly it’s not fair that she’s completely naked and you’re still wearing most of your clothes. She’s honestly not sure when you lost your pants, but she’s not going to dwell on that. You help her take off your shirt and you reach behind you to remove your bra as you take your bottom lip between your teeth.

“At the risk of sounding greedy, I want one more thing for my birthday, love.”

Wanda’s listening raptly as you run your hands down her thighs appreciating how they flex beneath your touch. Wanda has to speak up when you’re too distracted to notice her nod and you smile at what she says.

“Name it, detka.”

You grin at the idea of handing the reigns over to your wife, who has always wielded her authority in the best of ways in the bedroom. You consider for a moment what she’ll say, but the anticipation is too much for you to drag it out very long.

“Whatever you want to do, Wands. It’s your turn now.”

Wanda’s face lights up and she grins at the many possibilities. She knows what she’d like to do, but it’s your birthday and despite giving her a chance to call the shots, she still wants you to enjoy it as much as possible. She smiles when the perfect idea comes to her and she reaches out to cup your cheek and pull you back towards her. You indulge her and the two of you kiss for a minute as Wanda works you up by rocking her hips against yours. You groan and hold her a little tighter before Wanda breaks away to whisper in your ear.

“I want you to come now.”

You won’t argue against this because the pressure in your lower abdomen is reaching near unbearable levels from watching your wife come twice. You start to nod but Wanda cuts you off as she grabs your hair to keep you still as she bites you hard enough to make you jump and moan.

“But I want you to fuck me as you do it.”

It only takes your lust-addled mind a few seconds to realize what Wanda’s talking about, and you curse as your core throbs at the very idea. You nod and in less than a minute later you’re back on the bed with your wife, wearing the special strap that’s double-sided so you’ll be able to feel more than usual. Wanda smiles at you before she practically drags you toward her. She knows you’re plenty worked up but as you land back on the bed on your knees, she can’t help but reach out for the large toy hanging from your hips and stroking it appreciatively.

“You’re going to make us both feel so good.”

You nearly pass out as Wanda says this only to immediately fall on her elbows so her lips are just inches from your strap. You don’t have time to mentally prepare for the sight of your wife deep throating you, and you fist the sheets to keep from tugging on your wife’s hair. You curse under your breath as you watch Wanda tease you by making a show of it, and you shudder as she continues to push the strap further into you with each jerk of her hand.

“God, Wands. You’re going to kill me.”

Wanda smiles at you as she releases the strap with a loud groan before shaking her head. She’s not going to torture you for long, but she loves to see that she can get you so close to the edge with a little teasing. She leans in to kiss you chastely before she smirks at you in a way that makes you clench around the toy inside of you.

“How do you want me?”

You’ve only thought about this from the moment you stepped into the bedroom so you waste no time instructing your wife to lie on her stomach. She obliges you and lies down so she’s facing the end of the bed. You bite your lip to stop a moan from escaping at the sight of your wife waiting for you with her back arched and her legs spread wide.

You flirt with the idea of tasting her again, but you figure you’ve both waited long enough and you slide up close behind her and spread her legs even further apart, so she’s as open as possible. She gasps as you pull her back towards you before your hand goes to your strap with a groan.

“Ready, baby?”

You don’t wait for an answer as your fingers tease Wanda’s dripping folds and the moan in response is enough of a confirmation for you and you push your knees up against her inner thighs to keep her spread as you push the tip of your strap through her folds. You watch as Wanda fists the sheets at the feeling before she moans loudly as you start to push further in.

“Oh fuck! Fuck, that’s-”

Wanda trails off as you fill her to the hilt and rest deeper inside her than you’ve ever been. She squeezes her eyes shut and releases another moan as you pull out a couple of inches before pushing back in. Wanda’s walls clench at the feeling of you brushing against the sensitive spot inside her with each thrust. She feels you grab her thighs and she braces herself as you start to thrust faster.

“Jesus, Wands.”

You’re already breathless as you watch yourself disappear inside your wife as your thighs smack against hers. You adjust your legs so they’re under hers and the change in angle makes Wanda jump and nearly scream as your thrusts hit her g-spot each time. She shakes violently as she tries to thrust her hips back to meet yours to push you in deeper.

“Oh god! Yes, please, please.”                                       

You feel yourself clenching harder with each rough slap against your wife’s thighs. You throw your head back and keep thrusting as Wanda’s pleas turn nonsensical. Her eyes roll back as you continue to fuck into her just right. When she feels your hands move to her sides to push her further into the bed, she screams as she comes hard around the strap.

“Fuck! Oh my god, oh my god!”

Wanda stiffens and she sees only stars as you continue thrusting through her orgasm in an attempt to reach your own. You move your hands quickly to grab her hips and change how the strap hits your inner walls, and you nearly black out as your orgasm hits you hard. Your hand slips down and you tease Wanda’s clit and send her over the edge again with a moan of pleasure.

“Fucking hell.”

You stop thrusting and you let up the pressure between Wanda’s legs when she reaches down to grab your wrist. She’s panting hard and might pass out if you keep touching her, so she’s grateful that your hand drops away from her and you pull out of her slowly.

“Holy fuck. That was…”

You’re not sure you have a word that’s appropriate to describe that, but Wanda, like always, is one step ahead of you. She rolls over onto her back and reaches out to pull you towards her. She helps you take off the strap and discard it before you both cuddle close. You’ll clean up soon, but you both need to catch your breath first. You hold your wife close despite both of you being sticky with sweat but neither of you care.

Wanda places her head against your chest with a smile as she wraps her arms around you tightly. She listens to your heart racing for a bit before she kisses your heated skin with a smile.

“Everything you hoped for and more?”

You can’t help but laugh, but you kiss the top of your wife’s head as you nod in agreement. You honestly couldn’t have said it better.

“Exactly. Thank you for celebrating my birthday with me, Wands.”

You feel Wanda laugh more than you hear it, but you’re also fading quickly. You could fall asleep right now despite your stomach starting to ache with hunger. You’ll get there, but for now you’d just like to bask in your wife’s wonderful company.

“Of course, detka, but we’re not done yet. We still need to cook dinner and eat cake.”

You open your eyes and start slightly at the mention of cake, and your wife laughs at how food-motivated you are. She almost thinks you’re going to jump up now, but she’s pleasantly surprised when you just hold her tighter and kiss her again.

“I love you Wands, and I love cake, but this was certainly better than cake.”

When Wanda only laughs in response before shifting to get more comfortable in your arms you sigh happily. You really can't think of a better way to celebrate your birthday.

Masterlist

[iamcalmdammit]

Being sick || [John Price x reader]

Note: I loved John and the reader's chemistry in Four so here you go. This is the result of me suffering from goddamn covid myself.

Price hated to wake up without you by his side, especially when he was at home. After your date night on the previous day, he thought you could spend the morning in bed together, enjoying your short alone time. But when he woke up and turned to your side, he found the empty spot where you'd been when he fell asleep.

So he put on a shirt and began his short trip around the house to see where you were. In a matter of minutes he found you in the living room downstairs, cozily tucked under a fluffy blanket on the couch and reading a book in the silence the neighborhood provided so early in the morning.

"Lucas is with my parents and you don't use this opportunity to get some extra sleep?" he asked with a smile when he entered the room.

"I don't feel too well," you replied hoarsely as you closed the book and looked up at him. "I didn't want to wake you up with my coughing."

A worried expression replaced the loving smile the moment he heard you talk. "What's wrong?" He kneeled on the couch next to you and quickly checked your temperature by putting the back of his hand on your forehead. "Okay, you have a fever, you're going back to bed," he instructed before putting away the book and the blanket then reaching out to help you up.

But you pushed his hand away and stubbornly said, "I'm fine."

"You're not," Price told you when you started coughing. "Come on, I'll make you tea and bring something to bring down the fever along with a covid test."

"John."

Shaking his head, he simply scooped you up and began to walk towards the stairs with you. "This is not an argument you can win," he said with a know-it-all smirk.

"Ugh, fine."

"I hate it when you're being this difficult."

"I just can't be sick."

"You absolutely can." When you reached the bedroom and he gently lowered you on the bed, he sat down next to you and swept your hair out of your face. "Look, I can take care of you and myself just fine, and I'll ask my parents if Lucas can stay with them for a few more days."

Rolling your eyes, you looked at the ceiling. "I never said you can't take care of me," you murmured.

"You didn't have to," he informed you with a smile before he leaned down to kiss you on the lips.

"Hey, you're gonna catch whatever it is," you warned as you pushed him away.

Laughing, he stood up and held up his hands. "We live in the same house, I slept next to you last night, so I think I'd catch it eventually anyway. But fine, I'll give you space."

Ten minutes later Price returned with a tray in his hand that he settled on the bed next to you then sat down. "I'll put the tea on the nightstand because it's still hot. Here's a glass of water and some meds for the fever," he went on, giving you both. "And it's a good thing I stocked up because here's a covid test kit and a pill for your throat too."

"Doomsday prepper," you joked with a smile before taking the pill.

"All right," he began once he took the half empty glass from you and put it on the nightstand next to the steaming mug of tea. "Let's do the test. I brought myself one too so we'll see," he said, opening the boxes and neatly placing each item in front of you and himself.

Watching him with an amused smile, you leaned back against the headboard. "I can use a test, you know, I'm not dying yet."

"But I want you to rest."

At this point you gave up and decided not to force him. Price was glad you made this decision because he was too worried to deal with that. About ten minutes later you were both just sitting there on the bed, holding hands as you watched the two test panels.

It was you who broke the silence with your coughing fits every now and then until you said, "I was happier when it was my pregnancy test that became positive."

"Well, we're fucked. Let's hope I get away with it without symptoms so I can help you more," Price told you then began to collect the remains of the kit on the tray.

If there was one thing everyone knew about Price, it was probably how much he adored you since the day you met on a mission seven years ago. He was smitten, he knew that. Kate and Kyle often teased him about this, especially when they overheard parts of his conversations with you.

So now that you were sick, he was ready to spend the next few days taking care of you, just like you'd do if the roles were reversed. Once he took the tray back to the kitchen, he made himself a coffee then returned to the bedroom to lie down next to you.

With his legs pulled up, he dialed his mother's number and put it on speaker so you could also hear it. "Hi, Mom," he greeted her. "Look, can you get Lucas and yourselves a covid test?" His mother was surprised to hear it and her surprise disappeared the moment she put the pieces together. "Yeah, both of ours were positive so I just want to know if he's okay," he explained and his mother promised to do what he wanted. "Okay, thanks, Mom."

"Can we talk to him?" you asked worriedly, but she immediately explained that your father-in-law took him to the playground that morning. "Oh, okay."

"Call us if you know anything, okay?" Price asked then ended the call after a positive response. "I hope he didn't catch it," he said.

You watched him with an amused smile on your lips and he had no idea what it was for. "I love it when you're like this," you suddenly told him.

"Like what?"

Laughing, you reached out to take his hand. "When you turn on your worried-dad mode."

"Is that so?" he asked then leaned over to kiss you.

"Mmm-hmm. Like when I was attending a meeting in the HQ a few months back and you sent me tons of messages about taking him to a doctor because he had a mild fever."

Price laughed. "I freaked out."

"Yeah, I could--" you began but started coughing mid-sentence, "tell." When you could finally finish the sentence, you moved a bit to rest your head on his chest. "Thank you for taking care of us."

He couldn't help but look down at you with a big smile. Not because he was proud of himself, that was the bare minimum he could do as a husband and father. No. The reason behind the smile was how emotional you always got when you were sick or injured. It was cute and he loved it.

Later in the day--after finding out your son and his parents were all in the clear--he brought you another round of tea and meds, but this time he put some chocolate on the tray for you as well. "Liverpool's playing tonight," he stated as he sat next to you and sipped from his own tea.

"I know," you replied with a smile.

"You think you're gonna be okay while I'm watching it?"

With a cute little laugh you reached out to put your hand on his arm. "I'll be fine. I'm not dying. Maybe I'll watch it with you," you added after some thinking.

Raising your hand to his lips, Price said, "You should sleep, your fever's still not down."

"I'll be fine, John," you assured him.

He agreed. You were his lucky charm after all. The team couldn't lose if you were watching the game with him. So after you finished your drinks, he accompanied you downstairs, making sure you were okay on the way, then he tucked you in carefully with the blanket you left there in the morning.

[mysticalsoot]

someone to (not) watch me die

mistki and dsmp dr? tears.

➸ note; um so i got one too many dsmp crimeboys edits on my fyp that inspired this monstrosity. i don't often cry at whatever I write, especially while writing it but I'm still recovering so.. fair warning. its based off my dsmp dr with @lillylvjy so that's why its very very very canon adjacent. anyways, listen to I bet on losing dogs by mitski while reading (have it on repeat) if you want an extra lil sting. also I uh may have used this photo on a diff fic before but if I did, no I didn't!

➸ pairing; c!lmanbur x gn!reader

➸ summary; wilbur's been distant lately but when you finally convince him to spend some time with you, your life takes a dramatic turn. he doesn't always keep his promises.

➸ warning; hurt absolutely no comfort, MCD !!! incredibly implied suicide/assisted suicide (going into a battle knowing he's not coming back), swearing probably, overuse of baby (sue me), reader kinda wants to off themselves at the end but uh who wouldn't? implied age gap

➸ age-rating; 15+

➸ wordcount; 2k

main masterlist // part 2

it wasn't uncommon for wilbur to be distant with you, he always had his moments where he was less than loving. but he always had his moments, the nights where he'd come home after a day of work, crawling into bed and holding onto you like his life line. he'd kiss all over your face and murmur sweet words and praises, how much he loved and adored and appreciated you.

yet, the next day when you woke up, he'd be back in his office, working by lamplight and only responding with hums and refusing eye contact. it was torture for you. getting him again, held in your arms and so close to your heart only for him to walk away. to turn off his warmth and shove the cold into your face.

there came a day where you wouldn't seek him out anymore, you'd let him come to you if he so desired. but he often didn't, and when he would exist out of his office once in his adult life, he'd simply complain about the war or his enemies or his father or his brothers. if anything, more complaints slipped past his lips than a simple 'i love you'.

of course, you wondered if it was your fault, if you did something that turned him off from you, made him shut you out. yet you also wondered if he found you to be a bother, or something that only held him back. granted it was known he was a bit older than you, it didn't really matter but maybe it finally got to him. where he internalized it and thought it would lessen his chances of being elected or keeping office for the country of L'manburg. you thought it was stupid, but it wasn't so out of the picture.

the day started out like most others, you'd tend to yourself, eating and showering and doing something to keep your mind at peace. often baking or crafting, or going out to the flower fields to check on what has newly grown. you began to get restless, hearing wilbur from upstairs. he's pacing and mumbling to himself. most likely frustrated with something new, something he must be writing. something with lmanburg. something that has nothing to do with you.

but you want to mend things, you want to heal things or at least build a temporary bridge between the two of you. you're desperate for closeness again, and while you'd never admit it to him; you could never love another like he. you simply couldn't find the same type or amount of love in your heart for another person. another insane man like him.

so, you set out to pick a bouquet of his favorite flowers, pruning them and putting them in a vase you both made together early on in your relationship. you filled it with water and sugar, placing the cut flowers in the vase and tying a ribbon around the glass and making a bow before starting your trip up the stairs and into his office. you sigh softly before knocking on the door.

you hear shuffling for a moment, drawers opening and the sound of paper rustling before wilbur sighs deeply, "come in, love."

you open the door, stepping in and closing it behind you, his face held in his hands on his desk. he lifts his gaze to catch on you as you set the flowers on his desk. his gaze softens on you, almost sad and mournful and you can't quite place why.

a sour, sad smile curves on his lips, "what are those, dear?" he pats his thigh, beckoning you to him. he hasn't done that in months--but you'd be a fool to decline, so you quickly run over, sliding into his lap and resting against his chest.

"flowers for you," you sigh, nestling your nose against his neck, his hands coming up behind your head to rub at your hair.

"why, baby?" his voice cracks softly and he leans his face down to your cheek, kissing the soft skin before nuzzling his nose against the shell of your ear.

"a reminder that you can't throw me away," it comes out as more of a whine than you would have liked it to, but as always, you become vulnerable around him. there isn't much you can hide.

he's silent, his body tensing up at your words as he combs his fingers through your hair. his breath shakes, but he hides any emotion he must be feeling too well for you to pick it out.

"I haven't thrown you away. you're my baby, yes?" he croons softly, his lips ghosting over your temple and cheek, placing kisses as a silent truce.

"then why do I never see you?" you huff, pulling your body closer to his as a way to soak in the attention. or to receive comfort. you are his baby, but you aren't strong enough to admit it.

"I'm busy, that's all, love. I'm here now, aren't I?" he sucks in a breath after he speaks, hands now both in your hair and on your back, trying to give you that comfort you seek.

"you should come to bed earlier tonight. just.. I want you to be around me, for once."

you can tell he takes a moment to think, gears turning in his skull as his fingers trace on your back, ghosting over the skin.

"I can try," he breathes softly, his face in your hair, and his hand held on the back of your head.

"do you promise, wilbur?" you whisper, pressing your hands into his back.

"I promise," he kisses your forehead, holding your face in his hands as he keeps you in front of him, "I have some more work to do, I'll see you later, okay?"

he brushes stray strands of hair out of your face before placing a few kisses around your face, landing a final sweet kiss to your lips.

"okay, okay," you whisper, like a promise to yourself as you step out of his lap, walking to the door and standing there for a moment before turning to face him.

"enjoy the flowers. i love you, okay?" you smile softly, and he meets your eyes, an apology held in his irises that you can't quite register fully.

"I love you too. i will, I always do," he smiles sweetly, waving at you as you leave his office and head downstairs. you're partly thankful he has work for a bit more, you had plans of going to nikis bakery to pick up a few pastries for the two of you to share and your hope is that he'll be done by the time you're back. so you slip on your shoes and take the walk towards town square. it's nice today, the leaves are falling all ready to crunch under the feet of L'manburg's citizens. the wind brushes your cheeks, chilling the skin and bringing that familiar fall redness.

you always enjoyed fall walks, and it always brought you joy but the prospect of spending time with wilbur this evening put an extra pep in your step. you wave at any familiar face, smiling softly and greeting all of the sellers at their booths. you don't notice your sister not being at her flower shop, or Tommy not tending his fireworks stand in front of it. you don't notice many of the things that are painfully off about the day, your happiness clouding your judgement.

you quickly slip into nikis bakery, looking down at the case of the daily pastry specials, before choosing two of her cinnamon cookies and two of her pain au chocolat. they're both yours and wil's favorite, and while you'd adore sharing, wilbur is often possessive with his sweets. so it's best to get two of each.

you smile to yourself as Niki packages each pastry and she giggles at your happy demeanor.

"feeling extra peppy today, huh?" she smiles, ringing up the pastries and asking for payment. you pay quickly while nodding, smiling so wide and happy.

"yeah, I finally got Wilbur to agree to come to bed early. so I have plans for a bit of a date night. i just hope he sticks to his promises," you grin, taking the pastries gratefully into your hands.

"he sticks to his promises, when it comes to you. I have a good feeling," she nods as she speaks, a few moments later you both bid your farewells to one another; fully knowing you'll be back for a bread order on Sunday.

you took the long walk home, wanting to take in more of the nature around you, and to give wil some extra time to work. you knew he'd go over what he promised, but you hoped he'd pay his promise due.

plus, the scenic route was always more enjoyable. so the longer way will do, the flower fields grazing your ankles. the sun setting gently, casting a golden hue across the land, the soft shadows of buildings and trees painted on the grass. it was beautiful, almost like you were walking through a painting.

you finally made it home, opening the door and shutting it behind you. not noticing wil's work boots being gone from their spot on the rack. you giggled as you held the pastries in your hand, calling out for Wilbur.

"Wil? my love! i have sweets from Niki!" you hurried up the stairs, peeking into the bedroom before looking over the banister at the downstairs; nothing. you hum, walking over to his office, opening the door to still find anything but him.

you frown, "wilbur?" you call again, turning to walk out before your eyes catch on his desk, the now empty vase held on the desk without a flower in sight.

you looked closer, there on his desk laid a note and a rose from the bouquet you put there the same morning. you opened the note after a moments hesitation and you skimmed the words, eyes widening and tears falling as the message set in your mind.

'my darling,

you'll always be my baby.

yet, there's more for me, just not here.

- yours, wilbur.'

you dropped the pastries, and then the letter, slumping into his desk before shuffling through every single drawer and pile of papers. tears cascading down your cheeks.

"no, no, no, no-" you try desperately to convince yourself or a cruel joke, searching for more answers somewhere in his desk. it must be here, mustn't it? he was always one for dramatics so surely there's another secret note.

you spend the next hour tearing through his desk, tearing apart his office before you admit defeat. laying your head on his desk and letting yourself crack, you let it all out. tears and sobs and cries and screams bounce against the bookshelves that line the walls of his office.

there's a knock at the door, and after a moment of contemplation, you dazedly take the stairs down to the foyer, opening the door and being greeted by Phil. by Wil's father.

"Phil?" you start, ready to ask if he's here to tell you where wil is, that it's some sick joke he'll apologize for and never pull again-

"you know, don't you?" he pauses, avoiding your gaze, "we found his body, he left this for you."

he hands you an envelope and you take it, nodding to him as he speaks soft words of condolences and a goodbye. you shut the door, letting yourself fall against it as you stare at the folded envelope, wondering if it's worth the trouble to open.

what more could he possibly say?

but also, what more could it hurt?

you open it gingerly, sighing softly as you sniffle, wiping your eyes gently.

as you unfold the letter, out comes a wedding band, tied by string to another ring.

the ring you told him you wanted as your wedding band.

it clatters to the floor and you break again, letting out loud, pained sobs as you cry and shake on the floor, eyes unable to peel themselves from the rings that now lay on the hardwood below.

the note falls beside the metal rings, a simple phrase scratched into the parchment; 'in another life, my baby'

you want to burn it, to scream and curse the universe.

but then you wonder how much trouble it'd be to join him.

taglist; @lcvejoy @lillylvjy @ella-fella-bo-bella @lotusanonymouse @willgoldszn @whos-nicooo @zebonos

[ladylooch]

I can just imagine a time when Mack comes home and she is very overwhelmed or upset about something and asks Nico to hold her. It's so quiet he almost misses it but immediately stops what he is doing to comfort his teen who is usually so against needing help or hugs. They are on the couch, a cried out Mack has her head on her dads lap as he plays with her hair and she sleeps when Lexi returns home.

Mack can't believe it. She actually failed. Not even a C or a D, which would have made her pass at least, she FAILED her World History exam earlier in the week. This has never happened to her before. She is so good at studying, but the details of all the moving parts in World War I were not sticking into her head, no matter how much Nico tried to help her. She didn't stand a chance and she knew it even as she turned her exam in.

This afternoon, Mack seems to be the first one home. Lucie dropped her off then went running off somewhere with Lio after school. Sophie and her parents are not home yet. Her dad is with her uncle and her mom is picking up her younger sister from a field trip.

Mack makes good use of her alone time and wails out her frustrations. Big, hiccuping sobs rattle her slim frame as she covers her face with her hands.

"Sweets, what's wrong?" Her dad asks suddenly from the stairs. Mack startles, then tries to quickly hide her tears.

"N-n-nothing." She sniffs, palms swiping across her cheeks.

"This does not look like nothing. What's going on?" Mack looks down at the bulge of her sweatshirt pocket in her lap. Her bottom lip shakes and she bites down hard on it, drawing blood from her already chapped winter lips. Nico sits down next to her, grabbing her wrist and guiding her into his chest. Mack loses it completely again.

"Whatever it is, we will fix it together. I'm here for you, baby." He strokes his hand over her hair, smoothing the fly aways down. His lips press to the left of her pony tail. "I love you."

"No matter what!?" Mack squeaks out through a sob.

"Yes, no matter what." Nico's voice is calm and quiet, a complete opposite of the wailing happening in his arms.

"I failed my exam earlier this week. I got an F! A literal F!" She confesses through hiccups. Nico sighs heavily, mostly in relief because his mind was running a million miles a minute on what could be making his daughter this upset. This he can deal with. Easily.

"That sucks. I know how hard you studied and I'm sorry you are disappointed with your grade." He rubs her back, shifting so they can lean into the pillows more. "But you are so smart and you work so hard, I know you'll do better next time, sweets." Mack nods, then nuzzles in deeper to his chest. Nico squeezes her tighter.

It takes a few more soothing sentences from dad, including some questions about what extra credit may look like, but Mack eventually stops crying so damn hard. Her pink cheeks are still tear stained when Lexi comes home.

"Hi my sweet babies." She murmurs, instantly taking note of Mack's latch on Nico's sweatshirt. "We okay?"

"Yeah." Mack sighs, not taking her eyes off the TV. "Dad made it better."

"He tends to be really good at that." Lexi smiles, then kisses Mack's head before smooching her husband. Their silent look tells Lexi he will fill her in later.

"Can I snuggle!?" Sophie asks, coming in front of their faces. Nico and Mack open their arms and pull her in too.

The three of them remain there until Lexi calls them for dinner.

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

A Letter to Family

Request: Hii ! I'd like to request Kaveh being comforted by a usually quiet but extremely affectionate S/O? :,D basically hurt/comfort !! they get a bit shy and embarrassed expressing themself a bit but is extremely caring and extra soft/affectionate to Kaveh whenever he's stressed out (and drunk-) happy new year too! ♡

A/N: I tried for shy and embarrassed, but I'm not sure how close I got. I prioritized the affectionate part over the embarrassed part

Summary: Kaveh writes a letter to his mother. You comfort him when he can't find the words to say

Kaveh x gn!reader

And rode off into the sunset to live happily ever after.

You close the book you were reading only to frown. The tip-tapping and muttering you usually hear this time of night is non-existent.

You set the book to the side and make your way up the stairs to Kaveh’s workroom.

As is so often the case, he’s left the door open for you to come and go as you will.

You stop just inside the door. Your boyfriend is bent over a project of some sort, the feather in his hair drooping while several strands of hair fall from his braid.

He scribbles notes on a piece of paper before scratching them out in a fit of frustration.

Judging by the pile of crumpled up paper to the side, this has been going on for quite some time.

You approach Kaveh and before he can grab another piece of paper, you cover his hand with yours.

Kaveh looks up at you, his red eyes wavering. “Y/n…”

“You can take a break, you know. Whatever project you’re doing doesn’t have to be done tonight.”

Kaveh shakes his head, but leans back in his chair. “I’m not working on a project. I’m writing a letter to my Mother.”

You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue his explanation.

“I want her to meet you. Whether she comes here or we to take a trip to Fontaine for her to meet---if you want to. I did---”

You put a finger over his lips. “Shhh. No fritzing. I wouldn’t mind. I know you miss her. And I want to meet her.”

“I just… can’t think of the words. I don’t know what she’d say about the debt and Alhaitham. Or the events of the extravaganza.”

“I think you think too much. Your mother loves you. Just as I do.”

You tuck a piece of hair behind Kaveh’s ear and straighten his feather. “Take your time writing. Write from the heart. And don’t be afraid.”

Kaveh laughs and wraps his arms around you. “What would I do without you?”

“Be miserable and constantly bicker with Alhaitham.”

“Hmmm. Very true.”

“If you want I can keep you company while you write. I can bring up a chair and the book Alhaitham lent me.”

“Please.”

You bring up a chair and the aforementioned book, and sit with him until he’s finished.

By the time he’s done, it’s well past midnight.

He folds the letter and seals it, setting it to the side so he can send it off tomorrow.

“Done?” You ask.

“Finally.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

“You think she’ll agree?”

“She loves you, Kaveh. Why would she not?”

“If you say so.”

You stand and take Kaveh’s hand. “I do say so. Let’s go to bed now. Otherwise you’re going to have a hard time staying awake at your meeting tomorrow.”

Kaveh lets you pull him along, wincing at the mention of his client meeting tomorrow.

The two of you curl up in bed. Just before you drift off to sleep, you hear a soft thank you and feel a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

Once again, all's right with the world.

[sowoozoo-7]

Love, Lust & Litigation | Ch 1

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader x Namjoon

Genre: lawyer!AU, coworkers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut

Rating: M (18+) whole fic, this chapter PG-13 (for language lol)

Warnings: some swearing in this chapter, nothing explicit

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Unfortunately, you have developed a massive crush on your new boss. Even more unfortunately, your equally attractive coworker is also harboring massive crush on your boss. AKA Jungkook and reader both pine for big, sexy brain Namjoon. 

A/N: Phew! Here she is! The first chapter of my first fic. This has been slowly chewing away at my brain for the last few months, and I finally decided to say fuck it and write it. I don't know anything about law or lawyers other than what I've seen from movies and read in books so I'm sure I've gotten something wrong, but whatever, it's my own alternate made up universe.

Anyway, I’m new to all this — longtime reader, first-time poster — so I’d love feedback if you have any! Hope you like it ~

mlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | interlude | ch 6

Two hours into your new job at Bang and Associates, and you’ve already made a fool of yourself.

The first couple of hours went smoothly. Check-in with HR was all standard forms, waivers, and NDAs, and the view from your new office is killer. 

Though your new boss and the other associate on the litigation team are at court for the morning, you get to meet two of the paralegals on your team, Jimin Park and Hoseok Jung. They look like they just stepped out of a menswear ad, in their fitted suits and slicked back hair. You'd normally be wary of office workers who look a little too put together, but you get the sense that they’re going to be good coworkers from the few minutes you spend talking to them, both good-natured and quick to share a laugh. 

It’s when they’re giving you a tour of the office that your heel slips on a set of marble stairs and you find yourself briefly experiencing flight. You decide flying is overrated when you land on your ass and bounce down several steps. One of your shoes takes its own trip and lands a few yards away. You sit on the steps, frozen for a minute, with your bare foot just out there for the world to see. 

“Oh my god,” says Hoseok as he rushes down to the step where you landed. “Are you alright?” 

You’re quiet for a moment while you deliberate whether or not you’re going to cry. It’s inevitable that you’ll cry in front of your coworkers one day, but looking around, you see everyone else in the atrium glancing over at the absolute idiot who fell down the stairs on her first day. 

Not the day to cry, you decide. First impressions and all that. At least you wore a pantsuit today and not a dress.

“I think I’m okay,” you say with a rueful smile. “Just a bruised ego.”

Jimin retrieves your shoe and hands it to you with a sparkle of laughter in his eyes. “Another one bites the dust." It’s not malicious, you don’t think.

“He means that you’re not the first to slip down the stairs,” says Hoseok. “We think the janitors are polishing them extra to get back at all the asshole lawyers.” 

You limp for the rest of the office tour. 

***

You get sent to the courthouse after finishing the brief admin in the office to shadow your new boss, the firm’s superstar. 

Namjoon Kim is mesmerizing.

You have heard of his reputation — how could you not? Top of his class with a winning streak unmatched in the industry — but you have yet to see him in action. 

He lives up to his reputation. 

You sit at the back of the courtroom, trying not to put too much weight on your bruised ass, watching as he delivers his closing statement.

His voice is deep and measured, drawing everyone to the edge of their seat to hear every twist to the argument he’s crafting. You pity the opposition. They went first with their closing statement and now they’re squirming in their seats as Namjoon takes down every argument, point by point. The jury hangs on to his every world. 

Maybe it’s the way he carries himself, with a quiet confidence and authority, maybe it’s that he’s built like a tree and looks like a dream in his pinstripe suit. Whatever it is, you get the feeling that working under a beautiful genius is going to be some kind of Dantean torture. 

“Thank you, Your Honor.” 

You blink, realizing it’s over, and you watch as he goes to sit. Silence hangs in the court room in the brief second it takes the courtroom to snap out of their Namjoon-induced daze. The room shuffles as everyone shifts back in their seats. The closing formalities continue, with the judge sending the jury to deliberations. 

“Court is adjourned.” 

The room rumbles with a flurry of activity as everyone goes to exit. You hurry to catch Namjoon — you want to introduce yourself to your new boss as soon as possible — but you get lost in the shuffle of people filing out. By the time you catch up to him outside, he’s giving a press interview on the steps of the courthouse. 

You wait on the outskirts of the small crowd that’s gathered. Deja-vu hits as you watch the reporters lean in to hang on to his every word. He takes the questions with grace, and even a little humor, and smiles at a joke one of the reporters makes. 

Dear lord. He has dimples.

“Spectacular, isn’t he?” 

A young man stands next to you, smirking as if he knows how much you’re fangirling over your new boss. You recognize him as the second attorney at the defendant’s counsel table. The remaining member of the litigation team. 

If you weren’t so preoccupied with Namjoon, you’d be mooning over this man instead. His just-messy-enough-to-show-he-doesn’t-care hair frames his face in waves. An eyebrow piercing and a lip piercing glint in the late morning sun. Tattoos decorate the back of one of his hands. He would look like a punk kid up to no good, but you can the tell the suit he’s wearing costs more than your monthly rent. Jesus. Is everyone in the office just a walking GQ campaign?

“Excuse me?” 

“Namjoon,” he says with a smile that changes his expression entirely, from a little rakish to boyish in its delight. “I call it the Namjoon Effect. No one’s immune. I think it’s the dimples.” He puts out his hand to shake yours. “Jungkook Jeon. I’m th—“

“The other associate on the litigation team. I know.” You shake his hand and introduce yourself. “Looking forward to working with you.” 

“Ah, I thought it was you. Jimin texted me to look out for you today.” 

The impromptu press conference breaks up and Namjoon ushers his client down the stairs. 

“Come on, I’ll introduce you,” says Jungkook, flying down the steps. You follow at a slower pace, the twinge in your hip reminding you of your fall earlier that day. Still, you try to strike a confident stride in your heels. First impressions and all. 

Namjoon pats the roof of the private car he has bundled his client into and straightens as Jungkook claps him on the shoulder. 

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about any type of evidence to the press.” 

Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “The PR team said that. I didn’t agree to anything. Besides, it’s the same evidence we presented at the trial, just in a different light. Even if we have a less-than-favorable verdict, we’ll still have the public on our side.” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Why do you even bring me with you?” He sees you and gestures you over. “Namjoon, may I present your latest lackey.” 

“I resent that,” you say, mock-frowning and pointing a finger at Jungkook. “But you’re not wrong.”

You introduce yourself to Namjoon and shake his hand. It’s warm and firm. You hope yours isn’t cold and clammy. “Pleasure to be working with you.” 

“Pleasure’s all mine. I’ve heard great things from your former boss,” he says with a smile. There go the dimples again. He glances at his watch. “Shall we discuss our caseload over lunch?” 

You feel a little thrill at being included in the “our.” Bang and Associates have a reputation for working on some of the most high-profile cases in the city and you’re ready to dig your greedy little fingers into the cases. 

“Cat’s Pajamas?” asks Jungkook. He doesn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll drive.”

Namjoon sighs as Jungkook turns to walk towards the garage. “He always weasels his way into lunches. I swear he’s a never-ending pit,” he says with a note of fondness for the younger man. 

Cat’s Pajamas is an airy bistro just a few blocks away from the offices. There’s a sizable lunchtime crowd, filled with self-important business people taking their clients out to lunch. Jimin and Hoseok meet your group at the restaurant. 

You wince at you sit down, rubbing at the side of your hip. The bruise you expected from the fall is developing faster than you thought. 

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asks. 

He and Jungkook look at you with concern.

You wave them off. “Just a bruise.” 

Jimin shakes his head. “The marble stairs have claimed their newest victim.” 

“Ah,” says Jungkook with a knowing nod. “I almost broke my wrist when I fell down those stairs a couple months ago. It’s practically a rite of passage at Bang and Associates at this point.”

“Looks like you’re already part of the team,” says Namjoon, lifting his water glass in a toast.

***

The rest of the day passes quickly.

You return to your office to find a stack of documents already on your desk, with a sticky note from Hoseok on top. Welcome to the team!!!! it says, with a big looping smiley face next to it.

You slip out of your heels and bring your legs up under you as you settle into your desk, a routine study position that has followed you from college through to your professional life. There’s nothing you like more than finding your way in the maze of paperwork and laying out your trail in court. You lose yourself in the legalese, getting familiar with an ongoing case that Namjoon mentioned over lunch. 

Jungkook pulls you into his office when you’re returning from the bathroom to strategize about the case. His office is exactly the same as yours, with enough space for two guest chairs, a large desk and a set of bookshelves crammed with leather-bound law books. And, your inner petty competitor is pleased to see, the view is also almost exactly the same. Of course, he has a slight advantage because he’s worked here longer, but you have the same job title, the same office. You’re almost on even footing. You’ve noticed a competitive streak in him, and you’re excited to play against it. It’s only going to make you a better lawyer. 

The “quick chat” turns into an hour-long discussion and you decide by the time you leave his office that you’ll head home at normal close of business hours. You’ll be staying late anyway as your caseload grows. 

You’re surprised to find a brown paper bag on your desk, one of the simple gift bags you can find at the drug store. Inside, you find a get well soon card with a cartoon of a man on a hospital bed in a full-body cast with a thermometer coming out of his mouth and an ice pack on his head. Inside, it reads: 

Even though your welcome to Bang and Associates was a painful one, I’m very happy to have you on the team and I look forward to working with you. Now you know to avoid the stairs :) 

-Namjoon

Inside the bag you find a bruise balm and a travel size pack of ibuprofen. Warmth spreads through you, pleased at the gift. There’s another layer to that warmth, a feeling that you don’t want to examine too closely, because he’s your boss, and you suspect (no, you know) it's inappropriate to feel that towards your boss. 

Later that night, though, as you’re applying the balm to the colorful bruise on your hip, you can’t help but think of his dimpled smile.

***

“You’re babying me.” 

You’ve won your first case for Bang and Associates. Your client, a rich young widow who married an older man for love, was the sole inheritor to his massive fortune. His children, some older than the widow, were upset that they got nothing in the will. As you worked with the client, you got the sense that she was genuinely sad about her late husband’s passing. Not that it made any difference. She was a paying client, and you had to represent her regardless, but it made rooting for her easier.

“I thought it was for sure a trick case and that there would be something to trip me up in the prenup, but it was so straightforward.” You’re in the elevator with Namjoon heading up to the office. He was present at the trial, to keep an eye on you to make sure you lived up to the promise of your initial interview.

He shrugs. “It’s nice to start off with a win. You’d be surprised with how many people don’t prepare or get wrapped up in how things should be and completely flounder.” He pats your shoulder as the elevator dings open. “You did good today. Good prep, good execution.” 

He nods a goodbye and heads to his office without looking back. You head to yours at a slower clip, your shoulder burning where he touched you. You feel warm overall anyway, knowing you did a good job, but the praise still feels good. A little too good, maybe. 

Over the next month, the cases get harder and harder, and you have to pull out the most obscure references from your time in law school. You start spending more and more time at the office, racking up insane amounts of billable hours. You have a permanent cup of coffee at your desk and you change into your fuzzy slippers you brought from home to give your feet a break from heels whenever a new case file lands on your desk for review. 

At least you’re not the only one pulling crazy hours. The rest of the litigation team often stays late. You fall in quickly with the guys, cracking jokes over the Nespresso machine you all hover around. They were wary of you at first, an unknown entity coming into the equation, but you proved worth after the second night you stayed late and cracked the key piece of a case buried in ancient tax laws. They treated you to drinks at the local watering hole afterward. The biggest reward though, was getting a small dimpled smile and a thumbs up from Namjoon before he called it a night.

It helps that your boss stays late with the rest of the team. Every time you come to him with a tricky case, without fail, he gives brilliant insight or a nudge in the right direction, giving you advice on where to look for the answer.  And when he goes to his fancy client dinners, he’ll always bring something back to the office when he inevitably stops by the office on his way home. You can’t say no to a good takeaway creme brûlée. 

One Friday afternoon, Namjoon pulls everyone into a meeting a half hour before close of business. “It’s been a tough few weeks. You’re all going home at five today.” He holds up a hand when the team starts to protest. “I’m going to be at Silver Spoon for happy hour. Drinks are on me. You don’t have to come, but you can’t stay here.” 

“I have too much work to do,” Jimin says with a pout. 

“I’m firing you if you don’t leave at five on the dot.” The good-natured threat falls easily from Namjoon’s lips. “That goes for all of you. Wrap up what you need to.” 

You spend the rest of the time cataloguing what you need to finish Monday morning. Usually you’d work Saturdays too, but with the promise of an early weekend, you decide everything can wait until open of business Monday. Well. Maybe you’ll work on that memo from home over the weekend, but everything else on your to-do list can wait. 

You join Jungkook and Hoseok at the elevator bank three minutes before the hour. 

“Think he’s gonna make it?” asks Hoseok with a laugh.

You check your watch. “Two minutes left. He’ll make it right at five.” 

“He’ll be two minutes over,” says Jungkook.

“I think five over,” says Hoseok. 

“Loser buys the nachos,” you say. They both shake on it.

Jimin runs into the elevator bank just as the clock ticks over to five. You pump your fist in victory while the other two groan. 

Jimin leans over to catch his breath. “I thought I wasn’t going to make it.” 

He straightens just as Namjoon rounds the corner from his office.

“Glad I’m not losing any of the team today.”

“And I get two sets of nachos,” you say, getting into the elevator behind the rest and pressing the button for the ground floor.

“Hobi gets the nachos. I’ll get the wings,” says Jungkook.

Jimin looks back and forth between you two, a confused pout on his face. “What did I miss?”

***

Silver Spoon is all leather and dark wood. Namjoon leads the way to a large booth in the back, waving to the bartender behind the gleaming wooden bar. 

“You know everyone,” comments Jungkook as you all pile into the booth. It ends up with Namjoon in the middle, you and Jungkook flanking him, Hoseok next to you, and Jimin next to Jungkook. 

“I’ve been working in this area a long time. It pays to get to know the people working at your favorite haunts.” 

Namjoon drinks whiskey, neat. Junkook orders a pint of the house craft beer. Hoseok has a glass of red wine, and Jimin has a double straight vodka. You get an elderflower spritz, light and refreshing in the unusually hot fall afternoon. 

The conversation deteriorates to work talk, as it usually does among coworkers. The nachos and wings follow the drinks, and everyone digs in. They’re good, just the right amount of elevated to make the price worth it, but not so fancy that the bar food is unrecognizable. 

Silver Spoon fills up as the finance bros and hedge fund managers who work in the area trickle in. You recognize a few former coworkers, and you raise your glass to them in a toast when they wave hello, but you don’t attempt to engage further. You don’t care to reconnect with them. The cutthroat, backstabbing environment at your last firm is what made you leave in the first place. Bang and Associates hires ambitious lawyers, but fosters a workplace that manages to keep the ones that are ambitions without the cattiness, encouraging a collaborative work environment over individual hotshot lawyers. You're settling into your new workplace just fine, thank you.

Namjoon gets a call shortly after the third round of drinks, and Jungkook and Jimin shimmy out of the booth to let him out so he can take the call in private. 

Hoseok picks up where the conversation left off, brainstorming where to start to research a tricky case. Jimin interrupts him before he can get a full sentence out.

“Uuuugh,” he says, dragging his hands down his cheeks. “Can we talk about anything but work?” 

“Please,” you say. 

Jimin looks at you with a mischievous grin and pops his chin onto his hand. He calls your name in a singsongy voice. “Are you seeing anyone?” 

You snort into your drink. “Do I look like I have time for a relationship?” 

“It’s amazing what you can get up to in our limited free time if you have some determination,” mutters Hoseok with a sidelong glance at Jimin. 

“Jimin is slowly working his way through the office,” explains Jungkook.

Jimin crosses his heart with his finger and holds a hand up. “All above-board with HR, of course.” 

“Doesn’t mean you haven’t left behind a trail of broken hearts,” says Hoseok. 

“They all knew what they were getting into when they consented to the relationship.” 

“Or lack thereof,” says Jungkook with a snort. 

Jimin turns to look at him, eyebrow raised. “Speaking of lack of relationships, still hung up on Namjoon?” 

Jungkook turns an impressive shade of red. “Stop, I’m not—“

“Ever since he broke up with his ex-girlfriend, he’s had this massive crush on Namjoon,” Jimin tells you.

“Shut up!” 

“We all see how you look at him,” says Hoseok, not unkindly. “Stars in your eyes when you think he’s not looking.”

So you hadn’t been imagining that. 

Jungkook’s only response is to chug the rest of his pint. 

“I don’t blame you,” you say, then freeze as three heads whip around to look at you. “What?” you ask, voice squeaky.

“Not you too,” groans Jimin. 

“What?” You hope the heat creeping up your face isn’t noticeable in the low bar lighting. “I have eyes. He’s attractive. You can’t deny that.” 

“And smart,” says Jungkook morosely. 

“And kind and he’s a good leader. I’m surprised you guys aren’t also harboring secret crushes,” you say, as if they’re the idiots for not having a massive crush on their boss. In reality, it’s terrifying to say these things out loud, everything you’ve been thinking over the past month you’ve been working at Bang and Associates. 

“Unfortunately, I’m straight,” says Hoseok. 

“And disgustingly in love with his fiancée,” sneers Jimin. “It’s actually sickening to see them together. She’s super pretty and an amazing dancer — you’ll see at the holiday party— and you really want to hate her but she’s also really nice on top of all that.” He takes the rest of his drink in one shot without a wince. You’d think he was sober if you hadn’t seen him down his vodka doubles like they were water. “And I’m not straight, but I know a lost cause when I see one. Namjoon’s practically married to his work. There are other men and women still waiting to be added to my bedpost.” He waggles his eyebrows in an exaggerated imitation of a leery cartoon character. 

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” 

“Thought I don’t know about Namjoon.” Jimin continues like he didn’t hear Jungkook’s comment. “I don’t think he’s married, because I’ve never seen a ring, and I’ve never seen him flirting or taking anyone home after drinks. No dates to company parties.” 

“Maybe he’s asexual,” says Hoseok. 

“That would be a shame because I bet he’s got a big d—“

Jungkook interrupts Jimin with an elbow to his side. He sits up straight, and you follow his line of sight to see Namjoon coming back to the table. They move out of the booth to give him his spot back in the middle. 

“Sorry about that. What are we talking about?” asks Namjoon as he settles in, just an inch closer than he had been sitting before. The intoxicating spicy smell of sandalwood that you’ve come to associate with Namjoon fills your nose and you suppress the urge to take a deep breath. 

You and Jungkook exchange guilty glances over the table. Jimin heaves a dramatic sigh, thankfully drawing Namjoon’s attention away from you two. 

“We were just bemoaning our single status. Not Hoseok, of course.”

“I’d be surprised if you all have time to date, what with the hours we’ve been pulling.” 

“How do you balance it all? Work, a social life, dating?” The question falls from your lips and you wish you could shove it back in your mouth. Jungkook kicks you from the other side of the table, and Jimin looks impressed that you actually asked the question. 

Namjoon lets out a hollow laugh. “I’m the wrong person to ask.” 

You exchange glances with Jungkook again. Does this mean he’s single? 

Before anyone can ask a follow-up question, a group of lawyers from the (mostly) friendly competition approach the table to make small talk. You want to shoo them away like pigeons so you can continue the conversation, but you busy yourself with your drink instead. 

Your coworkers disperse soon after, with Hoseok slipping away to go home first, red-faced and quiet. Namjoon talks to a group of his law school classmates by the bar. 

As the evening progresses, it’s painfully obvious to you now that Jungkook is mooning over Namjoon. You’d had your suspicions before, but after the conversation from earlier, the not-so-subtle glances make you cringe a little. You hope you’re not that obvious too. 

Not that Namjoon’s presence stops him from chatting up sone of the women who join your table. They work in the advertising firm a few floors below you, and you’ve gotten friendly with them over the past few weeks. The petite woman with the swishy blonde hair touches him a little more than necessary. 

You and Jimin exchange looks when you both clock her hand on Jungkook’s bicep for the third time in as many minutes. 

Jungkook and the blonde head out together not too long after. Good for him, you think, not getting so hung up on Nmajoon that he can’t focus on a different pretty face for the night.

When it’s just you and Jimin left at the booth, he leans in a little close. “What do you say you and me head out?” 

You laugh in his face. “I’m not going to sleep with you, Jimin.” 

He takes it in stride, and stands with a wink. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” 

He blows you a kiss before zeroing in on one of the finance bros who’s been looking over at your table for the past hour. He won’t know what hit him once Jimin is done with him. 

You don’t bother trying to pull someone at the bar, choosing instead to slip away without any fanfare. Though you’re no stranger to one-night stands, you’re looking forward to sleeping in and you can’t be bothered with the logistics of a hookup. Tonight, you have a date with your bed, and your bed only. 

The air has a bite to it as you step out of the bar, and you pull your coat around you as you hurry to the curb to your Uber. You settle into the back of the car as the driver pulls out into traffic. 

You can’t help but feel kinship with Jungkook, what with both of you lusting after the same ill-advised man. The city lights blur by and you let your eyes unfocus.

You wonder what would happen if you were the last three people left in the world. Would he go for you or Jungkook? In your buzzed state of mind, you think you really wouldn't mind sharing.

©sowoozoo-7 2023

Please do not copy or repost. I do not crosspost anywhere else.

[rainbow-okapi]

Pokémon Scarlet/Violet headcannons w/MC who has Disabilities

Just me projecting, thought I’d share. Typed very hastily lol pls excuse the errors

Minor Game Spoilers | SFW

It’s is past my bedtime buuuuuuuut… Courtesy of the Arven Brainrot.

- Since Uva/Naranja Academy praises it’s diversity, I think to think they have decent accommodations for students

- There’s alternate routes around Mesagoza with accessible ramps and elevators. There’s no implied rules that students can’t ride a Pokémon up the main stairs of death to get to school either. (As someone with Cerebral Palsy, those stairs… they scare me. I would trip and die instantly if the embarrassment didn’t get me first)

- People don’t really ‘talk’ about the elevators and ramps tho so the faculty usually tell the students when they enroll

- Professors are mindful of students who need to keep snacks on them and will let most Pokémon sit with their trainers during classes for anxiety or other medical reasons

- Ya know the whole extra time on tests and all that. Extra time to get between classes for students with mobility issues.

- Ms. Dendra is a wonderful Battle Studies teacher and I liked to think she also does General PE classes on the side. You think she’s just gonna let children roam around without helping build up a bit of strength for all those hills and mountains they gotta climb??? No, she’s gonna make you run laps.

- She’ll hella nice about it tho. Just send her an email or talk to her before classes and she’ll hit you up with modified workouts so you can still participate with the class on your own preferred level.

- When Director Clavell showed up at the MC’s house at the start of the game and the mom was talking with him, I like to think he was making sure the student file was accurate

- Just so he had all the information to make sure the student would have all the support they needed during their time there at the academy since the MC was staying in the dorms

MOVING ON! Crater Squad GO

- I used to wear Ankle-Foot Orhtotics and had to use a walker for a bit soooo

Nemona:

- Nemona doesn’t even bat an eye at whatever aids you have

- Doesn’t outright ask questions but pays attention if you ever talk about it

- It helps open her world view

- If anything, if you customized them to feel more stylish/comfortable, she’d think it was hella neat! Would probably give you stickers and stuff to add to them

- She’ll probably gift you some of those cool compression sleeves like the one that she wears. Gets excited about what colors you might want and gets very happy if you wear the same color as hers.

- This girl looked at you and adopted you as her freshman rival in a heartbeat

- If anyone messes with you or starts rumors she is on. Their. Asses.

- Immediately reported to the nearest faculty member and will write a full report if the issue persists.

- She knows you can handle yourself though. Even if she worries, she tries not to hover. Will check in with you often tho

- If you have an odd gate (walking pattern) she might forget sometimes when she sees you and freak out that you’re limping from a Pokémon injury or something. A very brief second of panic.

- Catches herself wondering if a task might be too hard for you only to be proven wrong seconds later

- She’s just thinks you’re the coolest

- Doesn’t mind at all if you need to sit down for a bit after battling or on the treasure hunt

- She forgets that some people need breaks often and you asking for one reminds her to take a breather herself

- She has the stamina to battle for two whole hours but even then, she will not get between you and a snack

- Love love Loves how down to earth and practical you are about certain things but you still became a Champion despite everything. She won’t tell you, but the whole Pokémon League is impressed by you

- You’re a beacon of strength to her, even on your bad pain days if you get them

Penny:

- Penny overlaps a bit with Nemona

- Doesn’t bat an eye but will passively look up information

- Prefers to ask you questions tho, sometimes in person, usually over txt

- I like that her room is so dim, if a bit cluttered

- If you chill there for a bit, you will always have at least one Veevee in your lap or next to you

- Penny thinks it’s the cutest and she has a photo of you in a complete pile of Veevee’s

- You fell asleep on her bed and they all just collectively decided to pile on top of you. It was very cozy.

- Penny probably has a weighted blanket or a plush she’ll let you use

- She might even put on some Lo-Fi music if you asked her to, or she’ll play heavy electronic music at a low volume

- She just likes your company, she doesn’t feel pressured around you and she hopes you feel comfortable around her as well

- Worries more vocally than Nemona, and will find herself saying “that seems like a bit much”

- *catches you doing the very thing out of spite*

- “tHAT WASN’T A CHALLENGE?! STOP BEFORE YOU HURT YOURSELF?!?”

- Always has a snack on her and will share. Only with you tho

Arven ooooh Arven Big Brother Arven:

- Even if he was defensive to you at first, he immediately had a ping of concern when he met you

- Got so worried when you went to take down titans, especially the Open Sky Titan

- Openly asks questions about your disability and DIGS into research about it in his own time

- He wants to know everything and anything he can help with

- You’re convinced that some of that nurturing caregiving he gave to Mabostiff bled over to how he is with you

- Got genuinely curious if the Herba Mystica actually helped you (Especially the Salty Herba Mystica in my case lol)

- He’s always racing to your side to check on you when you actually fight the titans

- Always checks in when walking anywhere

- If the group wants to travel someplace he’s always the first to turn to you and ask if you’re up for it

- Will totally carry you if you just asked. If he’s not wearing his big hiking bag, he will give a piggyback ride. Even in between classes.

- Always reaching out a hand to steady you. Will let you hold onto him for support down/up stairs or slopes

- Cuddles. He can hardly initiate them at first but will never complain if you happen to lean on his shoulder or flop into his lap.

- The off-time he does initiate the cuddles at first, it’s usually to make you stop pushing yourself so hard.

- Oh, look at that, you’re in his lap now… guess you can’t go training like your body is telling you Not To Do But You Decided To Anyway.

- Gets pretty comfortable with Cuddles with you quickly tho. Once he’s gotten off the ‘Oh, Affection for once in my life’ shock

- I imagine he likes to hold hands too.

- He gives you little hand massages if you get fatigue from throwing pokeballs or writing too many notes. He doesn’t realize he does it it sometimes, it just happens if he’s holding your hand at the time.

- Memorizes your favorite comfort foods to make when everything gets too much. Uses your favorite color bowls/plates and everything. It’s perfect.

- Mabostiff declares himself your personal heater. No one has the heart to tell him he’s not quite a lap dog anymore.

Misc. Group ideas:

- all of them subconsciously bracket around you. Arven and Penny are always glaring at anyone who gives you looks

- Nemona also likes to hold hands. She’s always looking for an excuse to pull you around.

- Arven has to tell her to slow down often

- Penny may or may not have gushed to Team Star about you and you are on all of their ‘protect at all costs’ list

- Even if you did wipe the floor with them

- If the group stops by a store but you want to sit outside and wait, Penny will always sit with you to keep you company. She and Arven send each other memes and she’ll show them to you.

- Nemona is the queen of ‘I saw this thing and it reminded me of you’

- Tbh, that happens so often with everyone tho

- If it’s raining and it makes your bones ache and your chronic pain worse, the group will be there at your dorm. They refuse. Absolutely refuse to let you suffer alone.

- You cannot stop them, they just all collectively bee-line straight to you eventually.

- *rain starts pouring down*

- Arven: huh, guess we’re having dinner at my place tonight…

- Group cuddles after dinner. Cuddles and a TV marathon with Pokémon. It’s bliss

[owl127]

I second the alpha x alpha clexa fic! Your idea with nerdy Lexa and femme Clarke sounds great!

read on Ao3

(Next)

Like the tide, regret came in waves. First, the music. Whoever dared to call themselves the DJ of the party simply selected some random playlist and abandoned it to fester on the loudspeakers. Second, Anya had vanished the moment they stepped into the house, mumbling something about a girl, which meant Lexa would be coming home alone that night. And finally, just like being swallowed by a tide, Lexa regretted coming to this party when she choked on the cheap concoction of punch fruit mix and low shelf vodka. 

Regret, regret, regret. Coming to this party had been a mistake. She escaped to the backyard of the house hoping to find freedom from mediocre music and people. Ignoring a huddle of stoners that offered her a joint—no thank you; she had soccer practice early the next morning—she made her way to the back gate. Freedom was close. Suddenly too close, when the wooden gate opened from the outside straight at her face and Lexa fell backwards, ungracefully.

“Holy shit!” She heard someone call from above her. Lexa would love to yell at her perpetrator as soon as she could open her eyes, but then something warm filled her mouth.

“Fuck, you killed her, Clarke.”

“I didn’t kill her!” The voice was closer, and someone helped her sit up. Lexa opened her eyes, saw blue, and closed them again. She blinked hard, unfocused. “Here, put this under your nose,” the same voice instructed, gentle, and Lexa felt pressure under her nose. 

“Is she okay?”

“Hi. Can you hear us?” Lexa finally regained full consciousness and stared at maybe the one reason she would stay at a horrible party. 

“Hi,” Lexa mumbled from under the cloth on her nose. Everything hurt. Her nose, her cheek, her face. It was like the day she had hit her face against the goal post back in high school, but this time she didn’t score.

“What’s your name?” Her rescuing muse asked, her warm hand holding whatever was keeping Lexa’s nose from bleeding. 

“Lexa.” Lexa felt for all her teeth with her tongue. No gaps. That was good. “What happened?”

“She tried to kill you,” someone said from above them, and the muse flipped them off.

“It was an accident. O, get some of the beer ice for me?”

Lexa took a deep breath and tried to free her face from whatever was on it. 

“Let’s keep it there for a little more, okay? Until the bleeding stops. It doesn’t look bad, though. You’ll live.”

“Good.” Lexa tasted copper on her tongue. “I like to live.”

The laugher that erupted from her savior was melodic and low, like a touch of salt in a sweet cupcake. Lexa liked it. 

“Here.” The cloth, which Lexa noticed was a hoodie, was replaced by ice in a ziplock bag, and the coolness immediately soothed Lexa’s senses. “Hold that to your nose. Let’s take a look at it somewhere quieter.” Lexa accepted the hand and stood up, noticing the couple of inches she had on the girl. They walked back to the house, and her saving angel greeted the stoners with high fives, never letting Lexa’s hand go. 

“Benji’s locked downstairs, and there’s a bathroom there,” the girl said, as if any of those words made sense, guiding Lexa through the party crowd. Lexa focused on not tripping and holding the ice to her face; she failed at both. They made it to a door behind the stairs and, once it clicked shut, a merciful extra layer was between them and the loud music. 

Lexa plopped on the couch, hissing, and tried to touch her nose. 

“Wait, let me see.” Without distractions, Lexa could only look at the girl next to her. Her pink glitter eyeshadow was smudged, but her lips were still pristine cherry red. Delicate fingers touched Lexa with such care that she closed her eyes again. “Not broken. Just a bump,” she declared.

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve done that once or twice. I’m Clarke, by the way. Sorry about the whole gate-at-your-face thing. We were out getting beer because the vodka bomb Bellamy made is disgusting.” 

“It is disgusting. I’m Lexa.”

“You told me.” The girl said easily, a satisfied grin on her face when her hands left Lexa’s numb cheek. “I asked you before to make sure you were not unconscious.”

“I’m conscious.”

“That you are.” Lexa tried and failed to not look at the exposed cleavage every time Clarke laughed. Maybe being hit in the face had its advantages, like meeting the cutest omega at the party. 

“Is this your party?” Lexa asked, twitching her nose to test it out. It burned, but less so, and Lexa wasn’t sure if that was because of the effect of the ice or the girl. 

“Gods, no!” Clarke laughed again and Lexa had become addicted to it. “Bellamy is my friend O’s brother, and this is his party. We tried to offer ideas, but he wanted to do it all himself. That’s why it sucks.”

“It kinda sucks.”

Clarke looked at something behind Lexa, her smile blossoming into something warm and inviting. “Oh, hey, Benji.” Lexa turned her head to see a black cat with two big white spots staring at them from atop the dryer. He purred when Clarke motioned for him to come and made his way to her lap. He ignored Lexa completely, jumping above her shoulder to land on Clarke’s jeans. “Such a good boy.” She petted him a couple of times, and he spread himself on her lap in a cute offering. “He hides here whenever there’s new people in the house.”

Lexa risked a touch to the cat’s fur, and if he didn’t like strangers, he was too absorbed in Clarke’s caress to notice. She couldn’t blame him. Her fingers grazed Clarke’s, and no one pulled away. Benji purred in cat heaven-bliss, his legs up in the air at the attention.

“He’s the cutest thing ever,” Clarke whispered, leaning down to kiss the cat’s head. Lexa’s mind, so unprepared for the boost in cleavage view and a hot girl leaning down on her lap, swallowed the aftertaste of blood and repeated,

“The Cutest thing ever.” Clarke looked up, the glitter on her eyeshadow quivering with a single raised eyebrow. That was a challenge Lexa took head on, so she completed, “and the cat is not too bad.”

Clarke laughed, quiet and rich, and tucked a stray blonde lock behind her ear. “You’re not concussed, are you?”

Lexa frowned, her hand touching Clarke’s palm above the endless purring. “I hope not. But maybe I am a little to have the guts to flirt with you.”

Clarke’s smile was wide and beautiful, a small dimple on her cheek sparkling with makeup. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume. That’s on me for judging a book by the cover.” Her finger played with her hair again and Lexa saw a blush creeping down from her cheeks to her neck. She wanted to kiss the pink taking over pale skin, sink her teeth and leave marks on mapped freckles. Was that a concussion or a crush?

Between them, the monochrome cat was satisfied with the attention and jumped on the ground, leaving their hands with no excuse on why they were still touching. Lexa knew it was her role to take action; she would lean in and kiss those beautiful lips, get all smudged in red lipstick, finally find out how soft that little spot under her jaw would feel and—

Clarke kissed her while Lexa planned her move. It was gentle, mindful of Lexa’s nose, and yet Clarke’s tongue was slow but purposeful, an insistent explorer of everything Lexa wanted to give. Lexa opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, swallowing the moan that escaped Clarke’s lips. She welcomed the hand on her hips, allowing herself to be pulled closer, until that wasn’t enough, and she bit under Clarke’s jaw, whispering, “Do you want to sit on my lap?”

The grin that spread on Clarke’s face was predatory. All teeth and dimples, ready to pounce. So she was that type of omega, okay. Lexa could roll with that. Clarke’s hands were gentle when she cradled the back of Lexa’s head, pulling it to reveal Lexa’s pulsing point on her neck. 

“You good? Your nose okay?” Clarke asked, breath heavy against Lexa’s lips, and Lexa would endure another gate to her face just to kiss this woman again. She nodded and gasped when Clarke sat fully on her lap. She was warm, warmer than her hands, all hot touches of tongue and hands. Clarke’s knees hit the back of the couch, her breasts on display as she moved her hair aside and leaned in for another kiss. They parted for air, breaths mingling, and Clarke rolled her hips and Lexa couldn’t suppress a moan.

“That wasn’t because of your nose, was it?” Clarke’s eyes spoke of want, but her words were laced with concern. Lexa smiled and kissed her, tongues meeting halfway. 

“No,” she reassured the woman on her lap, hooking her fingers on Clarke’s belt. “That was something else.”

Clarke rolled her hips again, and Lexa bit her lip not to gasp. “I wonder what?” Clarke teased, grinding her hips farther. Lexa had not predicted a handjob tonight, but sure, she also had not predicted being knocked out, but there she was. 

“Fuck,” Clarke hissed above her, and Lexa continued her diligent work on her ear. She sucked the earrings there, licked the reddening skin, then went for another kiss. She ignored the protest her nose made when Clarke pushed back, hunger in her gasps. “You kiss like you mean it,” Clarke confessed mid-kiss, her hands toying with Lexa’s button-up shirt. “Can I open this?” Lexa nodded and continued to kiss Clarke’s neck as her buttons fell open, one haphazardly after the other. Clarke’s hands toyed with the underside of her sports bra, painted nails pulling at the elastic. Lexa made a questioning noise in the back of her throat that Clarke interpreted correctly, her own blouse hitting the floor. Black lace and peaked nipples welcomed Lexa.

“You’re gorgeous,” Lexa whispered, her mouth closing on a nipple, and Clarke was the one making embarrassing sounds. Lexa hummed at the scrape of nails on her nape, pulling her head impossibly closer, and she obliged, the pain a minor distraction in her mind so overpowered by boobs. Lexa helped Clarke to start a rhythm, her hands on her backside pulling her back and forth, the heat between them growing. There was a particular grind where Clarke’s jeans met Lexa’s hardening member just right, and her hips moved to meet hers in sync. “Fuck, you’re making me hard,” Lexa confessed into blonde hair, her tongue licking under Clarke’s chin. Clarke hummed with the praise, her hips never stopping.

“Me too, babe.” She breathed hot on Lexa’s ear, leaving lipstick marks all over Lexa’s skin. 

Lexa didn’t process what Clarke said. Too preoccupied with damp lace under her tongue to fully comprehend what Clarke had said. Until she wasn’t. “Wait, what?”

Clarke didn’t stop their grinding, sucking a deep mark on Lexa’s neck. “What did you say?” Lexa repeated the question, moving one hand to Clarke’s lower back. Hazed, with pupils eating at the blue of her eyes, Clarke blinked, tilting her head to the side. 

“What?” Clarke asked, now confusion between her knitted eyebrows. “Is your nose okay?”

“I’m fine, but… are you—” Lexa didn’t have to form the question. All she had to do was look beyond the boobs—a herculean task with an almost half-naked Clarke on her lap—to see the bulge in her own pants. And the other one in Clarke’s. The sweet, sweet grinding had been — “You’re an alpha,” Lexa wheezed, eyes wide.

Unphased, Clarke tucked a stray braid back behind Lexa’s ear. “Yeah?”

“I… I did not know that.”

Clarke chuckled, the new bruise on her neck shining a light pink. “That’s the problem of assuming things about people, isn’t it?”

“But.” Lexa’s eyes fixed on her own erection and the matching one in Clarke’s pants. Clarke had a penis. A legitimate dick. Hard. Which had been grinding against Lexa’s own. “But I’ve never been with an alpha,” Lexa said, and finally looked up to find a tight smile. 

“If you’re going to be a jerk about it,” Clarke warned, “you better fucking leave now.”

“No, no, no, it’s not like that. It’s that I’ve never…” She bit her lip and watched as Clarke looked her up and down.

“It’s the first time you desire an alpha.” Clarke rolled her hips in emphasis. “The first time you get hard for one.”

Lexa couldn’t do anything but nod. This was… weird. No, different. Unprecedented. Not unpleasant; quite the contrary. Clarke was a cloud of perfume and painted nails and still looked damn heck proud of her status. Lexa admired that. She wanted that.

“I understand if you want to stop.” Clarke kissed Lexa’s cheek. “But I’d really like to touch you. You look like you’d moan my name as you come.” There was that embarrassing noise in Lexa’s throat again. “Or,” Clarke continued atop her throne, running a single finger down Lexa’s chin. “You can go home and jerk off thinking about fucking me. So what do you say?” 

Anya would make so much fun of her if she knew. Or would she? Would anyone even care?

“Yes.” Lexa lifted her head to find Clarke’s lips, but she pulled back, a warm, so warm hand on Lexa’s chest. 

“Yes to what, Lexa? I need to hear you say it.”

Swallowing on nothing, Lexa focused on kiss-swollen lips. “I want you to touch me.” Lexa didn’t hear her own voice, not with blood rushing everywhere at once. Her ears popped, her heart throbbed desperately in her ribcage and pleasantly between her legs. Clarke’s lips were rough on hers, her always-warm hands strong when she lowered Lexa’s zipper. Had she always been so intense and only now Lexa associated this with being an alpha? Or being an alpha had nothing to do with it; was that just Clarke?

“Do you usually do this with other alphas?” Lexa said through gritted teeth, her hands digging into Clarke’s jeans. Clarke closed her fist around her and Lexa moaned, leaning her forehead on Clarke’s shoulder. 

“Sometimes.” Clarke kissed Lexa’s temple, lingering there for a moment. Lexa twitched in Clarke’s hand. “Lexa.” She coaxed Lexa out of hiding. With her free hand, she held Lexa’s chin, and the corners of her eyes lowered at whatever she saw in Lexa’s face. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting another alpha, Lexa.” Her dominant hand around Lexa moved, a slow up and down, almost a lazy stroke. Clarke did everything with precision, a hidden, meaningful grace. “It doesn’t make you less of an alpha, or a woman.” Following the cadence of Lexa’s gasps, Clarke sped up, spreading the dripping need along Lexa’s shaft. “Or me. I’m no less of an alpha for doing this.” Clarke looked down, and Lexa would never forget how fascinated she looked. 

“Come here.” Lexa leaned for a kiss and helped Clarke sit next to her instead. “Can you touch yourself while you touch me?” 

Clarke nodded enthusiastically at the proposal, her first graceless move the way she spread her legs and wiggled until the tight jeans were below her hips. Lexa loved that she had thin, lacy briefs that did nothing to hide her arousal. Lexa’s fingers clawed at Clarke’s thighs, and she hoped to leave marks, a visceral need taking over to have any kind of claim on her. 

If Clarke wasn’t an expert on this, no one else would be. She moved both hands in sync, watching for clues on Lexa’s face and bucking her hips at each stroke. Lexa mimicked her movements, their hips jumping in tandem, fingers digging into pale skin. Lexa tilted her head to bite Clarke’s shoulder.

Tongue on Clarke’s bruised skin, Lexa asked, “Can I?”

“What?” Clarke’s half-lidded eyes widened as Lexa’s right hand moved in her direction. Clarke was apparently left-handed, and Lexa was right-handed, a perfect combination as Lexa, for the first time in her life, held someone else’s hard, leaking cock.

“Fuck,” Lexa whined as Clarke sped up at her first touch. Clarke was thick, thicker than her, but Lexa did what usually worked for her, wrist twisting close to the knot and light at the head. Clarke moaned, tightening her grip on Lexa. Pre-come poured freely from Lexa’s head, coating Clarke’s hands, making the gliding smoother.

“Harder,” Clarke asked in a gasp, and Lexa struggled to keep her rhythm, liquid beading over Clarke’s broad head. “Yeah, babe, like that.”

Lexa bit her lip at the term of endearment. Part of her wanted to giggle at having another grown alpha calling her babe, but whatever was left of her functional brain melted at Clarke’s voice.

“I can’t wait to feel your cock inside me.”

An image flashed in Lexa’s closed eyelids as vividly as a memory: Clarke, all soft curves and hard cock, on all fours, head buried in a pillow as Lexa fucked and fucked into her. “That’s it, babe, come for me.”

Lexa grunted, her hips missing the increasing pace. Fuck, she was going to come already. She could feel it building in her belly. She opened her eyes to see Clarke kicking off her pants and straddling her again. Clarke shifted closer, her proud erection an angry red, and Lexa salivated. “This is alright?” Lexa nodded, and moaned as Clarke’s hand closed around her again, but this time Clarke’s cock was touching hers, teasing the sensitive underside. It transfigured Lexa; her cock was longer, but Clarke topped in girth, and the knot forming at her base was impressive. They glided together, Clarke using her hand to stimulate them. 

“God,” Clarke moaned on top of Lexa, her breasts bouncing, her hips thrusting forward, and Lexa wondered if she would look like that while riding her.

“Clarke, Clarke, I’m going to—”

“Make a mess, babe.” There was an unmistakable alpha tone to Clarke’s voice, and it was that what pushed Lexa into sweet oblivion. She came with a long moan that died on Clarke’s neck, thrusting into Clarke’s hand with hard thrusts of her hips. She felt the splash of warm come on her belly, and then Clarke was joining her, a long, high-pitched moan leaving her lips as she continued to stroke them and scratch Lexa’s nape at the same time.

Indeed, they made a mess.

It took a long time for Lexa to open her eyes, her abs twitching in aftershocks, when Clarke finally released her. Her nose ached, but she kept it pressured against Clarke’s neck, enjoying the scent that became stronger there.

“You good?” Clarke asked, guiding Lexa to look up at her. Lexa smiled at the smudged lipstick. 

“Yeah.”

“You really look concussed now.”

“Worth it.”

Clarke kissed Lexa’s cheek, lingering there. “Is it okay if I asked for your number? In case you don’t regret this alpha experience.”

“I don’t regret it,” Lexa said, nuzzling into Clarke’s neck. “I kind of want to do it again.”

“Hmm…” Clarke’s fingers grazed Lexa’s chin, lifting it for a short, sweet kiss. “There are other things we could do, too. Just saying.”

Lexa blinked slowly, the mental images taking life. Between them, her cock twitched, curious. Clarke kissed her, albeit softly. “But you really look like you need a break. Can I drive you home?”

Lexa realized that saying no to Clarke was extremely difficult.

And she was okay with that.

(Next)

[up-to-some-good]

Traditions (7/9)

So close!

Previous Part

Next Part

December 1977

James Potter was done. He was done with the longing glances and pining from afar. Done with the soft touches and blushing cheeks. If he and Lily could get their shit together in time for the Christmas holidays, then there was no reason Sirius and Remus couldn't do the same. The annual Potter Christmas Eve party was coming up fast, and James was determined that his brother would be attending with Remus Lupin on his arm.

It was the last night of term before the students went home for Christmas. The Gryffindor common room was packed with people, food, and drinks. The party, James thought, was the perfect opportunity for some well-intentioned meddling. He tried to get Lily to join him on his scheming, but she had denied him, arguing that they would "figure it out themselves" and that "meddling would only cause problems". Whatever. He knew what he was doing, and Peter would be a perfectly adequate assistant.

Plan A: Get Sirius to Drunkenly Confess

James spent the evening plying Padfoot with drinks, trying to get him drunk enough that he would either get into his feelings and confess everything to Remus, or get extra touchy and finally make the first move. It was a foolproof plan.

Except that it wasn't. He forgot to account for Remus, who looked after Sirius at all times, and kept swapping Sirius's drinks for water, keeping him hydrated and barely even tipsy. Remus himself was staying sober for the evening, so Plan B (Get Remus to Drunkenly Confess) also went out the window.

Plan C: Spin the Bottle

James got Peter to suggest the game to avoid suspicion. It didn't work, as Lily narrowed her eyes at him immediately, but Sirius and Remus seemed none the wiser. He tried to place them strategically in the circle, encouraging Sirius to sit next to Mary so he'd be directly across from Remus, but Remus refused to cooperate and planted himself on Sirius's other side.

The game did not go well. At least, not for James. He watched Sirius kiss three different people in their year as Remus scowled at them, and then had to watch his own girlfriend kiss some Ravenclaw fifth year, at which point he ended the game. Peter, on the other hand, ended up spending the rest of the night dancing with Emmeline Vance after their first kiss in the circle. This, unfortunately, also left James without his assistant for the remainder of his schemes.

Throughout the night, he tried everything. He tried making them dance together, and dance with other people. He tripped Sirius three times, trying to get him to fall into Remus's arms. He suggested playing Truth or Dare and Never Have I Ever to no avail. He even tried persuading Mary to flirt with Sirius, but she only laughed and told him she didn't plan on pissing Remus off.

By the end of the night, James was seriously considering spiking one of their drinks with Veritaserum, when Lily came to sit by him. He buried her face in her neck and groaned in frustration as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"They're idiots," he said. "Complete idiots who are going to die alone."

Lily chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead before lifting his head and point him in Remus's direction.

"Just watch," she whispered.

So he did.

He watched Remus beckon Sirius over to him, near the entrance to the staircase. He watched Sirius smile as Remus said something about a new Christmas tradition, before taking his hand and walking him over to the stairs. Remus stopped there and gently touched Sirius's chin, tilting his head up to the ceiling, where he spotted a sprig of mistletoe. Sirius smiled even wider, then leaned up to meet Remus in a kiss, his hands tangling in golden curls.

"They did it," James whispered in amazement.

Lily hummed her agreement.

"All by themselves!" he added.

She hummed again and pulled him closer.

"I'm an idiot," he said, finally.

"You are," she responded. "But you're my favourite idiot."